Harry Potter and the Immortal History Teacher
by JinMukang
Summary: As Harry starts his sixth year of Hogwarts, the school is surprised to have a new History of Magic teacher who seams to be very mysterious and more wise than his age and appearance led on.
1. Chapter 1: Exit Binns, Enter Emrys

**Hello! This is my first crossover fanfiction and my first Harry Potter fanfiction so don't expect perfection. I wrote this on a whim and made it take place during the 6th book of Harry Potter, the very one I usually have trouble with remembering all the details, but oh well. Hopefully this doesn't end in flames.**

 **Quick thing I have to say, during the opening ceremony thing I copied some things Dumbledore said from the books from his opening speech, because it seemed really dumb to change it. But as the story goes things will go more AU and I won't copy the books, it was just easier this time so I don't have to make up the whole opening speach.**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own Merlin or Harry Potter. The god BBC and the absolute goddess JK Rowling are to thank.**

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Chapter One:

 _Harry_

Harry beamed as rolling fields of grass flew quickly past the windows in the compartment of the _Hogwarts Express_. He was finally heading back to the school of witchcraft and Wizardry, and all seemed right with the world.

Well, if you exclude the fact his scar had never ceased to stop stinging for the past half year. Voldemort was back, and the whole wizarding community knew and feared it. Natural disasters that certainly were not natural had been happening all over Europe, people mysteriously are found dead, or not found at all, and to make matters worse, Muggles were starting to suspect there is something more going on. Something unexplainable. Something magic.

And thinking about Harry's problems, he remembered what happened at Diagon Alley a few weeks ago. Draco. He just _had_ this to be working with Voldemort now. The way he flinched when he was being tailored for new robes by his arm or when he snuck off to some creepy voodoo store to ask about how to fix something was proof enough. He rolled his eyes at the fact that _no one_ believed him that Draco was now a death eater. Not even his closest friends.

He rubbed his scar unconsciously as he stared out the windows. He was so absorbed in his thoughts that he hadn't noticed a red headed freckled boy and a buck toothed curly haired girl walk into the compartment.

"Harry, we're almost to Hogwarts, you better go and get your robes on."

Harry jumped and looked at Hermione who smirked and sat down on the other side of the bespeckled boy, dressed already in her robes, a prefect badge shining beautifully pinned to it. Ron grinned widely and sat down to the prodigy witch, dressed in his own robes, yet his badge he kept in his pocket because of the relentless teasing from the red head's brother the year before.

Harry smiled at them and grabbed his robes, before walking out to get changed, Ron spoke up.

"Guess what Harry," he said with an excited look.

Before Harry could ask what, Hermione spoke up. "It's just a rumor Ron, no need to go making a big deal about it."

Harry lifted an eyebrow and sat back down. "Now I really want to know," he said with curiosity leaking into his expression. Anything Hermione thought was annoying or unnecessary was defiantly just the opposite to the two boys.

Ron smirked triumphantly and Hermione rolled her eyes. "As our female friend said, there's a rumor going around," he said with a glint of excitement. Harry urged him on with an enthusiastic nod of the head. So Ron continued. "They say Professor Binns quit."

Harry had to use all of his willpower to not cheer or gasp. Professor Binns was the most boring teacher in the history of ever, how ironic it is that the professor teaches History of Magic. They say the man died in his armchair, never realized it, and continued teaching. The ghost had taught his class for as long as anyone could remember and every lesson was dull and painfully hard to stay awake in. "What would cause him to quit?" He asked in awe.

"Apparently he realized he had died and decided to go towards the light, or something like that," Ron smiled.

Hermione rolled her eyes. "I doubt the rumors are true. I mean, that man loved his job so much he continued even after death, I don't see why he would quit just like that."

"Maybe since he realized he was dead, that his lessons were dead boring as well," Harry said with a grin. "And I hope the rumors are true, can you imagine a history lesson we're not falling asleep in?"

"Maybe the teacher could tell us more exciting parts of history other than the Goblin rebellions," Ron said leaning back into the chair with a hopeful expression.

"Well, it's not like either of you will get into History Of Magic this year, both of you got failing results in the O.W.L's," Hermione added in.

Ron rolled his eyes. "That rich considering you got O's on everything except Defence Against the Dark Arts."

Hermione shot him a glare. "Anyway, Harry, you better go get dressed," Hermione said, closing the conversation.

Harry glared at her then left through the sliding compartment door without another word.

He walked down the skinny hallway and only stopped when someone ran into him from the behind. Harry fell to the floor and the man fell of top of him while ungodly amounts of papers scattered everywhere. Harry groaned.

"Oh my gosh I'm so sorry," came a deep yet youthful Irish accented voice. The man quickly scrambled off of Harry and proceeded to gather all the scattered papers with a wave of a pear wood wand.

Harry lifted himself to his feet and looked at the stranger with curiosity, though it was hard to because the man was suddenly holding a stack of papers nearly touching the roof of the compartment. But thankfully the man peeked his head through the mountain of papers to study his victim. He had black hair that sat in a slight mess on his head. His face was filled with youth but his blue eyes were filled with age. Harry wondered how such a man who could hardly be older than 25 could look at Harry with eyes filled with enough wisdom to rival Dumbledore himself.

"You're Harry Potter!" He said with wide blue eyes. Harry instinctively lifted his hand to his scar which caused the man to chuckle. Harry only nodded, already used to people calling his name without him telling it. The man smirked. "Of course I've heard a lot about you, bit of a trouble maker the past six years I hear."

Harry rolled his eyes and annoyance filled him. "That's because of I'm the Chosen One apparently. Everyone expects me to suddenly defeat Voldemort."

"Ah yes, Voldemort has been causing a huge ruckus lately, him being back and all," the man sighed sadly, as if he completely understood what Harry was saying.

Harry looked at the man in shock. Not only had he not yelped or screamed at the name of the Dark Lord, but he said it himself! Harry instantly knew this stranger was definitely not a normal person.

The man noticed Harry's shock and laughed. "Now Harry, it's not like saying his name is a sin. Now if you excuse me, I must be off. I will see you at the opening ceremony." He then nodded then walked away from Harry with his stack of papers wobbling to and fro, held up only by magic.

The Boy Who Lived was about to call after the raven haired man before he saw a bleach blonde boy slip into a different compartment. Draco Malfoy. Harry smirked, Draco was sure to talk to his posse about his recent joinings to the Death Eaters. He reached in his pocket and grabbed his cloak of invisibility and snuck to the compartment the boy disappeared into, completely forgetting about the strange man.

* * *

 _Merlin_

Merlin sat at the head table between a greasy haired man and a giant - who had arrived late for some reason. He certainly felt very awkward being in the castle of Hogwarts and even more so when students began filing into the Great Hall. He shifted uncomfortably when many students dressed in various colored robes shot curious looks at the warlock and at another man further down the table whome was having an enthusiastic conversation with Albus Dumbledore.

Merlin glanced at the table full of red robed students called the Gryffindors. He was slightly disappointed when he didn't catch sight of the lightning scarred wonder. Out of everything he had been excited with when he got a teaching job at Hogwarts, meeting the Chosen One was by far the one he looked forward to most. A boy that had his destiny thrust upon him, forced to defeat terrible evils, and unknowingly possesses more magic than any witch or wizard of his time. Harry reminded Merlin so much of himself that he could barely contain his excitement when he ran into the boy in the express. But now that he wasn't here, he wondered what could possibly be holding the boy up.

The greasy haired man stood up suddenly making Merlin jump. He watched with curiosity as he walked to the headmaster and exchanged a few hurriedly whispered words before flicking his back robe and then scurried off out of the hall. Before Merlin could do anything, a stern looking witch burst into the hall with a line of first years with various expressions of fear and curiosity behind her as she carried a stool with a old worn out and tattered hat on it. The warlock smiled fondly at the hat remembering the time he himself was sat underneath it. A few centuries after Arthur's death Merlin magically made himself 11 again to learn modern day magic and… well… that is a story for another time.

The first years were sorted and the Dumbledore announced that it was time to eat. Merlin could hardly suppress his joy when food magically appeared on every table. How far magic had come!

It was at the very end of the meal that a certain bloodied up black haired boy strutted into the Great Hall. Merlin recognized him instantly as Harry Potter, and so did the rest of the room. The boys face was covered with blood and he wasn't even in his robes. Merlin saw him blush slightly at the attention of the hall, but strided confidently and came to a stop next to a curly haired girl and a red haired boy who started to whisper quietly to each other. The girl waved her wand and cleaned up Harry's face then tried to pry out where the boy had been. It looked like Harry didn't want to talk, looking around him suspiciously looking like that wherever he had been, he didn't want to tell in front of unwanted ears.

At this time the black haired man strided into the Hall and sat back down next to Merlin.

Harry reached for some food only to pull his hand back when dinner was replaced with desert. He sighed then grabbed some treacle tart, then continued in a discussion with his friends. After a few minutes of talking Harry looked up at the staff table and waved at the giant next to the warlock, before his gaze stopped on Merlin. Recognition flared in Harry's eyes, then suspicion. He voiced a question at Hermione as Merlin waved with a grin.

Suddenly, Dumbledore stood up with his arms raised. The whole hall died into a shocked silence at the sight of his right hand. Blackened and dead looking. Merlin lifted an eyebrow but Dumbledore brushed off the sudden questions of his injured hand.

Merlin hardly paid attention to the old wizards speech as he studied Harry and his friends who were talking urgently with each other. But he was pulled back to the opening speech when Dumbledore finished announcing the new objects banned from the castle caretaker and Quidditch tryouts.

"We are pleased to welcome two new staff members this year. Professor Slughorn" -a bald and fat stubby looking guy stood up and beamed down at the students- "is a former colleague of mine who has agreed to resume his old post of Potions master."

"Potions?"

" _Potions?"_

Merlin was surprised when the word was echoed through the Hall as if no one believed it. What was so surprising about a new Potions master?

"Professor Snape, meanwhile," said Dumbledore, raising his voice so it carried over all the mutterings, "will be taking over the position of Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher."

"No!" Yelled Harry in disbelief louder than he probably intended. Merlin noted his horror as well as the rest of the Halls terrified expression while the Slytherins pumped their fists and high-fived each other. He concluded that Snape was not a very well liked Professor.

Snape, the greasy haired man, clearly didn't want to stand up like Slughorn at the mention of his name, so instead just waved his hand with boredom painted on his face.

Dumbledore cleared his throat which stopped all confused conversations. Once it was silent, he continued. "Now, our second new teacher" -he moved his hand to Merlin who stood up with a sheepish grin- "Is Professor Emrys who will be filling in for Professor Binns in his absence."

Merlin gave a friendly wave while people looked at him with shock. Clearly the students were not prepared for three position changes, and if anything, they were most surprised by the History of Magic teacher who was so dull and boring would be replaced by a younger looking man who had the aura of fun all around him.

"Where did Professor Binns go?" Asked a Ravenclaw with confusion chiseled on her young face. She stared at Merlin with a mixture of shock and awe.

Dumbledore chuckled. "it seems he has business on the other side of the vail." He didn't go more into it. He just motioned Merlin to sit down and then continued with his speech with a voice that he was not interested in more questions about the staff change. "Now, as everybody in this Hall knows, Lord Voldemort and his followers are once more at large and gaining in strength."

A few studies jumped at the name, even a few teachers flinched but Merlin just sighed sadly. Once again, magic had corrupted the heart of a powerful person. Voldemort wasn't the first and he regrettably won't be the last. He shook his head as he had almost thought of the old days and Morgana. Time had healed him plenty, but it still hurt him and he didn't want to be depressed the day before his new job.

"I cannot emphasize strongly enough how dangerous the present situation is," Dumbledore continued, knocking Merlin out if his thoughts, "and how much care each of us at Hogwarts must take to ensure that we remain safe. The castle's magical fortification have been strengthened over the summer, we are protected in new and more powerful ways, but we must still guard scrupulously against carelessness and the part of any student restrictions that your teachers might impose on you, however irksome you mind find them - in particular, the rule that you are not to be out of bed after hours. I implore you, should you notice anything strange or suspicious within or outside the castle, to report it to a member of staff immediately. I trust you to conduct yourselves, always, with the utmost regard for your own and others' safety."

Dumbledore's eyes swept over the students before he smiled. "But now, you're beds await, as warm and comfortable as you could possibly wish, and I know that your top priority is to be well rested for your lessons tomorrow. Let us therefore say good night. Pip pip!"

Merlin grinned at the leaving crowd of students and stood up himself to head to his chamb... room. Honestly, one thing he hated about modern day times is that no one called their rooms _chambers_ anymore. So many things has changed in the many years he had wandered the earth awaiting the return of Arthur. He shook his head then proceeded on his way, nodding happily to those that acknowledged him as he went. He smiled, tomorrow would be busy, he had to fill the empty role of a teacher that had taught for years. He had to meet new people and teach about the past that no one knew that he experienced himself.

And proceed in his real reason for teaching at Hogwarts. Voldemort is back in power and affecting innocent lives. And it is time he got involved.

* * *

 **Yay! With that done I can sleep. Please please please make sure you review! _REVIEWING INFORMS ME OF HOW MUCH YOU GUYS ENJOYED READING AND LIFTS MY MOTIVATION, WHICH WILL CAUSE ME TO UPDATE MORE OFTEN._**

 **The reason I made this is because I recently finished Merlin a week ago, and I can't help but laugh every time someone in HP or Fantastic Beasts says "Merlin's Beard!" And i just imagine Merlin awkwardly shifting.**

 **Now, I must go-**


	2. Chapter 2: The Great Schedule Change

**AN: (jaw drops) I was not expecting that in just one day this would get the attention it did. I just couldn't wait to get another chapter out! Thank you to those that Reviewed! Made my day to read your opinions on the story. And all of you who added this to your favorite and follow lists, thank you so freaking much.**

 ** _Reviews will be answered by PMs, if you are a guest I will write something at the end of my most current chapter but then delete it when the next chapter is updated._**

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Chapter 2

 _Merlin_

Merlin awoke with a small crick in his neck. He looked around his room with a wistful sigh. It was defiantly bigger than his old room in Camelot. If anything it represented a room about the size of Morgana's when she still lived at the castle. He smiled painfully at the memory of the witch who used to have a stronger sense of justice compared to Arthur himself.

He shook his head. He reminded himself that no matter what, he absolutely cannot get caught up in his millennia year old memories. No one knew about his true identity, the only clue he left to his real identity was his supposed last name Emrys, which according to Muggles legend was just an ancient meaning of Merlin. Little did they know that it was opposite. Merlin meant Emrys pretty much.

The issue of his first name was a different matter altogether. Usually he would just go by Muggles legends and have fun with the names they made for him. Merlinus, Ambrosius, Myrddin, Merlin Calidonius, and more, but those are the more common ones. He couldn't risk that at Hogwarts though, these people - specifically Dumbledore and a few teachers and students as well - were not easily fooled. He already knew that Dumbledore was suspicious of him, it was clear by the end of the interview that gave him his new job that the old wizard defiantly suspected something, though Merlin was glad that he was never asked more into his history, most everybody believed he was just a rare boy wise beyond his years.

Hah! They thought!

Well, the issue of a first name still existed. He had thought about it and he couldn't believe that through his 1500 years of roaming the earth, he couldn't think of one name. Maybe something common, like James or Nate… or… something.

He sighed, guessing he'd cross that bridge when he came to it.

He looked at an old clock on the wall and noticed breakfast in the Great Hall would be starting in three quarters of an hour. He sighed and got out of his bed that felt literally like a cloud. Seriously, magic sure can do some fantastic things!

He walked over to his curtains and yanked them open. He squinted at the sudden barrage of morning light coming from the east, and smiled at the stillness of the earth.

Though, of course, he knew it certainly was _not_ still. All of the magical community in Europe was in a panic, and at the central is the United Kingdom. Voldemort's return had been a shock, more so for Merlin. The funny thing was, he had never even _heard_ of the wizard before returning to England after spending a century traveling through Africa. Most places he had been were very isolated from the rest of the world yet had a rich history of magic and myths. He spent his time traveling the world awaiting Arthur's return, he was even one of the pioneers that sailed to the America's on the _Mayflower._ It was a good way to pass time and helped him to be more in the moment than in the past. So when he finally returned to England, Harry had already started his fourth year of Hogwarts. He spent the last couple years filling himself in on current magical news. He was certainly surprised when a few months ago the world found out about Voldemort's return. At first he thought he'd stay out of it, let others deal with it and let history move and wind itself in its perfect web. But then the demon and his followers started killing innocent Muggles and Wizards for _sport,_ he knew he could not simply 'stay out of it'.

One thing led to another and he decided to help the Chosen One in his journey to get rid of Voldemort as quickly as possible. He'd try his best to be discreet but who knew what destiny would have in store for Merlin and the young Harry. Maybe he will reveal his real identity in due time, though he did not plan on it. For now, he had to focus on his job as a teacher.

Speaking of his job, he smiled stupidly, he was to have his first lesson teaching about the past. He couldn't wait for his first lesson. There's so many interesting points in history he couldn't wait to talk about. Of course he'd go into the Salem Witch Trials, then go into early wars and how magic played a role. Great Sasquatch Rebellion he would definitely go into, just for the Muggleborns. He wanted to teach about the history of other countries and other official schools, like Mahoutokoro in Japan, Uagadou in Africa, Ilvelmonry in America, and even something local like Hogwarts itself.

Of course he'd teach the Arthurian legends, as much as he didn't think he emotionally could teach it, it was still part of the curriculum. After all Merlin was an 'important' part of history, so the Ministry expected students to be informed of the legends. Maybe he will pretend to be sick for a week and have some kind of substitute fill in for him...

While he mentally went over his plans and lessons he quickly got ready. By the time he walked out of his chambers… room… he was dressed in his robes and was holding his pointed hat under his arm. All of the books and papers and items he needed to teach were inside his office of his classroom. He felt prepared and ready to take on the world.

That was until he had to turn back around and grab his wand he forgot. He's had it for 500 years and yet he still somehow managed to forget it.

Ten minutes later he found himself in the teacher's lounge. A small amount of professors he had yet to learn the names are also in the room with him. A small mustached man waved at the new History of Magic professor as he walked into the large room. He spotted the stern looking witch he spotted the day before during the sorting sitting in a cushioned chair by the fireplace next to Professor Slughorn. She looked at the sound of the door closing behind the warlock and gave a friendly wave to come sit by her. He nodded, wondering what she would want, then quickly grabbed an already steaming cup of coffee waiting for him. It literally had a tag attached to it that said 'Emrys'. After taking a sip and instantly being filled with energy - how he wished this stuff was in Camelot - he sat down enthusiastically next to the witch.

"Professor Emrys!" Slughorn exclaimed happily. We was dressed in a gray knitted vest over a white dress shirt and wore tan trousers, complete with brown church shoes that squared at the tips of the feet and had a slight heel. He looked both casual and formal, which Merlin found strange because it was the first day of classes, first impressions and stuff, right?

"Emrys, I was just about to look for you," the old witch said under her pointed hat. She too, like Merlin, was wearing her robes, but she seemed to wear them better. Truthfully Merlin thought he never thought he looked good in anything other than his blue or red shirt complete with a complemented neckerchief. He missed the outfit, he hadn't worn it for centuries.

"What for… um…"

"McGonagall. Minerva McGonagall," she informed.

Merlin nodded. "Of course, McGonagall."

She nodded sternly then continued. "I was just discussing this with Horace, I was wondering if you wanted to change the O.W.L limit to get in your class. Professor Binns had his cut at an E, and I was wondering if you wanted to change that."

"Yes, Severus used to have Potions O.W.L requirement be nothing less than an O," chimed in Slughorn. He laughed and shook his head. "I changed it to E to let more gifted minds into the class."

Merlin nodded, knowing exactly what gifted mind he wanted in his class.

"Well, that's good you have informed me of this…" he said slowly. He then looked at McGonagall with a smile. "Let's see, ah yes. Here's what I want-"

He whispered his idea to her and she looked at him in shock. Slughorn looked disheartened to be left out, he huffed and struggled to his feet. He made his way to a bowl of sweats that magically refilled itself when it got more than halfway empty.

"You can't be serious, Emrys," McGonagall said with her eyebrows coming together.

"And I will inform you I am very much so," Merlin replied. "I've heard of the lessons that Binns taught and I wish to give the students a chance to fully enjoy History and what it can teach us besides how to have a good nap."

Before McGonagall could respond he stood up and took another sip of coffee. He left the mug on the counter then made his way towards the Great Hall, breakfast was to start in ten minutes and he did not want to be late.

* * *

 _Harry_

Harry, Ron, and Hermione left the Gryffindor common room in deep conversation. They hardly had enough time the night before to discuss Harry's lateness though it did seem to be the topic of the school. They had only been at Hogwarts for not even a full 24 hours and Harry had lost track of how many times a Slytherin - specifically Draco Malfoy - would pretend to have their nose broken or go petrified or something like that. Harry growled when he saw Pansy Parkinson pretend to have blood dripping down her face right when she caught sight of the Golden Trio. She laughed and latched into the arm of Malfoy.

Ron noticed Harry's annoyance and quickly made conversation. "Don't let it get to you, mate," he said shooting a glare at the Slytherins.

"Yeah Harry, they're just bullies," Hermione chipped in.

Harry grumbled. "I know…" and they continued down the confusing corridors of Hogwarts to the Great Hall.

Once they got into the Hall, they were met instantly with the smell of food. Ron took a deep breath of air and inhaled. "Smell that, Harry," he asked letting out all the air in his lungs in a short gasp.

"Bacon," Harry replied. Both boys grinned and ran off to their usual spot of the Gryffindors table.

Hermione rolled her eyes and followed. "Boys," she muttered under her breath.

Once the trio were sitting and eating, Harry shot a look up at the staff table while he stuffed a buttered roll in his mouth. Dumbledore was laughing with Professor Sprout, McGonagall stared at her plate in deep thought, Snape ate quickly and in silence, Flitwick was joking around with the new professor Emrys, as Slughorn put in his opinions every once in awhile causing the History of Magic and Charms Professors to struggle to smile at the self absorbed man.

Harry remembered his first time meeting Slughorn. Harry knew he was a very odd man that wanted nothing more than to make his students successful and to be remembered by them. He recalled the Slug Club meeting on the train and his opinion on the man only grew. He was sure he was a kind person, especially if his mother loved the class as much as the large man said she did, but it was still apparent that the man had a Slytherin mind, a mind that thought for itself first.

His gaze traveled to Hagrid - who was currently trying and failing to talk with Snape - and he instantly felt guilty. He turned to Hermione. "Hey… you plan on taking Care of Magical Beasts right?"

The young witch nearly choked on her soup. "N-no I'm not, Harry. Why?"

Her response only made Harry feel guiltier. Before he could reply Ron spoke up. "I foul ve?"

"Don't talk with your mouth full, Ron!" Hermione gasped as bits of sausage dropped from his mouth. The red head rolled his eyes and took a deep swallow.

"Why would she take that class? No one liked it," Ron said, waving his fork around with his hand.

Harry looked down at the table. Just as he suspected, none of them were planning to take Hagrid's class. He swallowed and tried to think of a way to explain it nicely to Hagrid that they won't be returning to learn about creatures that were probably too dangerous to even keep around underaged wizards and witches.

Hermione seemed to notice where Harry was going with the conversation and she gasped. "Oh no, you're not taking it either, are you?" She asked Harry.

"No…"

"Bloody… what will we tell Hagrid?" Ron said, realizing the topic of the conversation as well.

Harry shook his head. "I don't know."

Before they could talk more into it, Lavender Brown sat down next to Ron, who blushed at the sight of the girl. Hermine humphed and turned suddenly very interested in her breakfast.

Unfortunately, Lavender wanted to talk to the trio. "Have you seen the new professor?" She asked.

"Which one, there's two?" Ron replied, looking up at the staff table.

Dean Thomas spoke up from the other side of the table. "Of course she's talking about Professor Emrys, he's been the topic all the girls are talking about."

"Well… he's very handsome…" Hermione blushed.

Ron grinned. "Remember last time you had a crush on a Professor he turned out to be completely mental?"

The smart witch glared at the red haired boy. "Oh shut up, Ron."

"I personally find him very enchanting," said a wistful voice from behind the group of talking Gryffindors.

Luna walked up to the group as if in a daze, but that was how she normally walked. "He's mysterious too," she continued, coming to a stop near Harry. "He has a bunch of Fluggifs floating around his ears."

Harry rolled his eyes. Classic Luna. Lavender looked confused at the girls comment of some creature Luna probably made up.

Harry had worries of his own concerning the new History of Magic teacher. The man was strange. He barely looked older than Fred and George but he gave off a feeling that he knew more about the world than Dumbledore himself. There was also a strange feeling when you got close to him, like you suddenly get the urge to cast some kind of charm or your magic will do it for you. Usually Harry felt like his magic was a tool for him to use, but whenever he got remotely close to the new Professor his magic would surge and suddenly seem like it had a mind of it's own. And it's clear he wasn't the only one feeling this around Emrys, he would see students walk up to the staff table to ask questions and cast uncomfortable or curious glances at the professor, then walk away whispering wildly with their friends.

Harry was brought to the awareness that his friends were still talking when someone said his name.

"Right, Harry?"

Harry blinked at Hermione who looked at the black haired boy with eyebrows raised. He swallowed. "What…?"

She groaned. "Never mind I'll tell you later."

Ron just shrugged at Harry, clearly he hadn't been listening either.

"Well, I must go back to my table," Luna said dreamily making Harry jump. He forgot that she was still standing behind him. She gave a lazy smile then walked back to where the Ravenclaw table was.

Neville sat down next to Harry and sighed. Hermione gave him a curious glance. "What is wrong?" She asked with an eyebrow raised.

The poor boy shrugged. "I forgot all my quills back at home. That's the third item and first class haven't even started yet."

Ron laughed and Hermione elbowed him in the stomach. The redhead glared at her then turned to Lavender who was suddenly overly concerned for him.

"You can borrow one of mine if you want," Harry said, trying not to laugh at Ron's furious blushing.

Neville looked hopeful, before his face fell again. "I left my ink too…" he sighed and sank to the table and wrapped his arms around his head.

"Well you better get quills and ink soon or your classes will be very difficult, Mr Longbottom."

Harry and the gang all jumped at the voice of Professor McGonagall that stood right behind them with an impatient expression masking her amusement. "Professor!" Hermione fretted, suddenly looking like she had been sentenced to death. Harry rolled his eyes at this. Professor McGonagall was in charge of making sure all 6th year schedules were taken care of before they start their classes. Hermione had been worrying since she had gotten her O.W.L results that she wouldn't be eligible enough to get into any classes. Which is weird because she got all O's in everything except Defence.

McGonagall gave a slightly amused look at the fretful girl then quickly replaced it with a business like scowl. "Well, Miss Granger. Lets get yours over with."

Much to Hermione's relief, she was immediately cleared to continue with Charms, Defence Against the Dark Arts, Transfiguration, Herbology, Arithmancy, Ancient Runes, and Potions. Looking very relieved and pleased with herself, she said thank you and rejoined Harry and Ron at the table.

Before McGonagall moved into the next schedule, she looked over at Neville, Harry, and Ron with her usual scowl that no one to this day is sure if it means she's angry or secretly bemused.

"Now, all three of you have Dreadful results in your History of Magic, and not the required O.W.L to continue in Potions as well," she started. Studying the suddenly embarrassed students. "But I will inform you of some changes in the expectations. The new Professors decided to change the entrance deadline. Mr Longbottom this doesn't apply to you, but Professor Slughorn has decided to move the cut off from an O to an E," -Harry and Ron looked at eachother in shock- "so I advise you both take that class. History on the other hand…" she shook her head looking like she couldn't believe what she was going to say. She took a breath and continued, "Professor Emrys is allowing anyone into his class no matter the results. He wishes to teach anyone willing to be taught then he will give his own test in October to see if you are eligible to continue on to N.E.W.T."

Hermine surprisingly was the first to speak up. "Professor, why didn't you tell me this?"

"Your schedule is already full, Miss Granger, you won't be able to take History of Magic even if you wanted to."

Hermione looked at her schedule with despair, then at Harry. He remembered her telling him that she planned to drop the boring class to make room for other classes. She said she wouldn't take it if her friends couldn't. She didn't want to suffer boredom alone. Harry suspected this new information changed things.

She looked at McGonagall with a determined look then held up her schedule. "Replace Arithmancy with History, please."

Harry and Ron stared at the curly haired girl with wide eyes. It seemed that since she was giving up a class to take History, that Harry and Ron would be forced to take the class with her.

Harry didn't mind really when McGonagall agreed with a smile. He was interested in how Emrys would tach. She made all of their schedules, each with classes they originally didn't plan on taking.

Harry and Ron had a free period and they walked back to the common room as Hermione waved goodbye and shot off to her Ancient Runes class. On their way back they ran into Katie Bell.

"I thought you'd get that, well done," she called over, pointing at Harry's Quidditch captain badge - which he almost forgot he had - pinned to his chest. "Tell me when you call trials!"

"Don't be stupid," Said Harry, "you don't need to try out, I've watched you play for five years…"

"You mustn't start off like that," she said warningly. "For all you know, there's someone much better that me out there. Good teams have been ruined before now because Captains just keep playing old faces, or letting on their friends…"

Harry continued to talk with Katie as Ron looked uncomfortable. After the chaser left, he turned to Ron. "Should we get some rest before first period?" he asked.

Ron smiled but gave an exasperated sigh. "Defence."

"Defence," Harry agreed. As they walked past the Fat Lady he thought of how weird this day would be. He and Ron both had Defence Against the Dark Arts, Potions and History of Magic right after eachother. Time to see how good these new teachers are and if it's worth staying in their classes.

* * *

 **AN: Thank you for reading! :P**


	3. Chapter 3: Nevile's Answer

**What the actual crap. I was not expecting this amount of support for a dumb story I made on a complete whim. Thank you so much guys, I really don't know how to express my gratitude.**

 **I have written this chapter three flipping times and I'm still not satisfied, so please don't mind the crappy writing,**

 **I apologize in advance, this is a fluff chapter. I was hoping to get some fun stuff going on but so many of you wanted Merlin to teach so I spent the last couple days worrying about how in the world I am going to do that. I'm bad a fluff and at long conversations… I'm better at action scenes and crap like that so….**

 **I really hope this lived up to your guy's high expectations :/**

 **Disclaimer: Me no own Merlin or Harry Potter.**

 _ **FOR THE TEN OF YOU WHO READ THE LAST CHAPTER BEFORE I FIXED IT, I CHANGED WHAT RON AND HARRY SAID AT THE END FROM "POTIONS" TO "DEFENSE".**_

* * *

"No need to call me 'sir,' Professor."

Before he had even finished the sentence he had already regretted them. He must admit, Harry was frustrated with Snape and he was sure to be a celebrated hero for that historic one liner, but he still very much regretted saying it as he headed to his next class. As much as Snape deserved his sarcastic and sassy remark, it landed him with the promise of detention.

Defense Against the Dark Arts was his favorite class, it was the only one he got an O in. But, his sixth year at Hogwarts might prove to be a difficult one.

Well, at least it was a class he was good at, now all he had to do was plan a way to get rid of the greasy toad. All Defense Against the Dark Arts professors ended up quitting, getting fired, or on extreme and rare cases, get killed. Harry was unsure of what option best suited Snape, though he knew Ron - much to Hermione's annoyance - was leaning more towards the third option.

 _Well,_ he thought with a smile, _at least Snape won't be getting his way this Saturday._

He looked down at the small parchment note he was playing with in his hand.

" _Dear Harry,_

 _I would like to start our private lessons this Saturday. Kindly come along to my office at 8 P.M. I hope you are enjoying your first day back at school._

 _Yours sincerely,_

 _Albus Dumbledore_

 _P.S. I enjoy Acid Pops."_

What dumb luck the Chosen One had. He'd be free from detention on Saturday and he'll be doing much more enjoyable things at Dumbledore's office. Though, he didn't know what he'd be doing exactly but it sure was fun to theorize it with his two best friends.

They did this all the way to where the class none of them expected to take was located. History of Magic.

It worked out rather swell really. Before McGonagall convinced them to take the class Ron and Harry would have had a free period and Hermione would have skipped happily to Arithmancy. But now since Hermione dropped the class - she said she never liked it anyway, she was always bad with predictions, she just liked learning about the numbers themselves - they found themselves in a room that they certainly weren't expecting to see.

Sure, they weren't expecting to be in the classroom in general, but how different it looked compared to Professor Binns version was shocking to say the least.

"Merlin's Beard…" whispered Ron as they set foot in the room.

* * *

 _Merlin_

Merlin prided himself on the creativeness of his classroom. He could hardly believe that any room could get as damp, cold, and boring as it used to be. He spent the most of the night decorating and preparing, one would hardly recognize it no matter how many times they had been in it before.

It was one of the best feelings in the world to see his new students walk in his room with disbelief. They looked all over the classroom with wide, bulging eyes and be at an almost loss for words.

The dull gray walls were replaced with a beautiful shade of maroon, though, it didn't really matter what color the walls were when they could hardly be seen under all the decorations hanging on them.

Being 1400 years old, Merlin has been around. He had traveled all over the world and more, collecting and leaning more than he could ever dream of imagining. He had seen history being made every day, so of course he was going to collect it. Maps of what Muggles thought the world looked like before the discovery of the Americas, flags from extinct countries, art work, posters, newspaper clippings, pottery, first edition books, and so much more. (You may be wondering how he carried all this around with him for so long, you see, he has an old satchel that he enchanted to be enormous on the inside. Think of it like Newt Scamander's suitcase). He put most of everything that he had collected around his classroom. Flags, maps, and such were hung on the walls. Shelves and book shelves lined the walls that were littered with books and ancient artifacts. Walking into the room would instantly make one think they walked into a crazy museum.

Merlin loved the reactions of his students when they saw his collection. Many would gasp, some would just stare as they made their way to their seats, others would get excited. He hoped that they were excited, for they would be learning history as they had never before.

Though, as much as he loved the reactions, there was one he couldn't help but roll his eyes in annoyance to. His sixth year class was starting soon, it consisted of Gryffindors and Ravenclaws and they were slowly filing in. A few minutes before class would begin, a tall, freckled, red headed boy walked in and gasped, "Merlin's Beard…"

Merlin, who was sitting at an old oak desk that was made in the french revolution, sighed and instinctively rubbed his cleanly shaven chin. He absolutely hated it when today's witches and wizards used his name like that. Merlin's pants, Merlin's beard, Merlin's baggy stockings, Merlin Merlin Merlin. He has become the equivalent of Muggle's "Omg," and he loathed that fact. He wouldn't be surprised if the magic community would start using things like, "Omb," (Oh Merlin's beard). He has lived over a thousand years and he seemed to miss the start of the trend of saying his name in vain. Just one day he was in England and he heard it all over the place. Though, he found British wizards and witches use the expression more than any other country. In America, the Arthurian legends was an uncommon knowledge to have, so expressions like, "Dorcus's mule kicking wand!" were more used.

As students arrived and sat down quietly in randomly chosen desks (Merlin noted that the two houses seemed to separate from each other and stick with their own), they looked expectantly at Merlin. He decided that all the students who were going to come have already arrived, so he stood up from his desk and stared the room down with a goofy grin.

"Welcome class!" He said clapping his hands in front of him. He had all eyes on him, to which he still wasn't comfortable with. Especially when one of them was the stare of the one and only Harry Potter. He noticed that the boy was staring at him with both curiosity and suspicion. Merlin didn't know what he had done to get under the boys suspicion, but he hoped that he hadn't given anything away his short two days at Hogwarts. He had been especially careful to not use his power of the Old Religion unless he knew for sure that he was alone and he made sure that he had a whole story of who he was and where he'd come from made up if people ask him questions. He mentally sighed, maybe the Potter boy was more intuitive that one would think. "My name is Professor Emrys and-"

He was cut off when a girl with curly brown hair, a friend of Harry's if he remembered correctly, raised her hand with enthusiasm.

"Yes?" he asked raising an eyebrow at her.

She put her hand down and sat up straight in her chair. She looked around the room, took a deep breath, then finally spoke. "Your last name, Emrys… isn't that the Druid meaning for Merlin?"

At the question many teenagers (mostly the Ravenclaws) nodded their head is if they had been wondering that as well. The Gryffindors just looked bored. Merlin on the other hand gave the young witch a surprised look. He hadn't been expecting to be suddenly surveyed on his last name and he then realized how stupid it was to go by the old name. After composing himself for a moment he looked the girl straight in the eyes. "Yes it does," he said slowly. He then grinned. "You must be Hermione Granger? I heard many things about you from many teachers, I expect many great things from you."

Hermione blushed then quickly looked down at her desk while a couple kids snickered. Merlin cleared his throat. "Now, as I was saying. I realize that many of you hadn't been expecting to take this class, so I am here to say you won't have to worry about supplies today. Though I expect each of you to have the required books for this class before next week, whether you check them out from the library or order them. But for today, all you need is your brains and memory. We will play a little game, smart Ravenclaws against the brave Gryffindors. Whichever house wins will earn 25 points and a special treat from me."

Merlin smiled that the class's attention had suddenly spiked when he mentioned the rewards. One thing both Muggles and magical folk had in common was the competitiveness for a reward.

"I will ask a question about history to one team. If they get it correct they will get one point, if they get it wrong the point will go to the opposing team," he explained. He noticed how the Ravenclaws (and Hermione) suddenly looked very excited. However, the other house looked discouraged to be pitted against the smart house, though not completely because they did have Hermione Granger on their team.

"Now, Ravenclaws first," He said, walking over to the right side of the room where the said house had gathered. "Give two types of wood that were used to make the first wands."

* * *

 _Harry_

The class was silent with anticipation. They were on the last question and both houses were tied 23-23. Hermione had been banned from answering anymore questions after getting the first ten points for Gryffindor all in a row so she was no longer an asset they could use. They were forced to rely on their own knowledge. So far Harry had only answered one question correctly, Ron had somehow gotten two. It had gotten so competitive in just a short amount of time that the air was almost sparking with the intensity of mass concentration. The questions started off reasonably easy but gradually got harder and harder that even the Ravenclaws were stumped. At questions like these Hermione would raise her hand even though the whole class knew she would just get a wink by Emrys and then he'd move on to choose someone else.

Harry had never had this much fun in a History of Magic lesson. He found himself mysteriously looking forward to the next lesson in a few days, which was strange because he had never liked history. He found himself leaning more than he ever had in Professor Binn's version of the class. After every question, weather it was right or wrong was explained with a mini lecture which you had to be sure to listen to, because sometimes the next question would tie into it.

Emrys smirked at the Gryffindors. "Now, the hardest and last question. You get it right, you win. You get it wrong, you loose. Are you ready?" A few maroon robed students nodded unsure, but with determination at the same time. "I'm not sure that even Miss Granger could answer this one," he teased. Harry noticed Hermione straightened up and put a determined face on. "If any of you know the answer, raise your hand, including you this time Miss Granger. Now, In the Pax Romana, what was the wizard by the name of Geilfus the Bold known for?"

The class all looked at Hermione. You could almost see her mind working in a frantic attempt to remember. But, much to everyone's surprise, her hand never went up. But what shocked the whole class was that Neville was the one that rose his hand.

Emrys looked at him with wide eyes. "You know?"

Neville gave a nervous nod. "Gilfus the Bold a magical herb into the lion's food that were used for gladiator fights. It made all the lions loopy and they started dancing around the coliseum…" he answered.

The whole class was silent. Then a grin spread on Emrys face. "Mr Longbottom, I am pleased to announce," he paused at looked at the anxiety on everyone's face. Harry feared for Neville, if he had gotten it wrong then surely the whole class will blame him for the loss. After a few moments the winning team was finally announced. "That the 25 points goes to Gryffindor!"

Groans and cheers erupted in the room. Neville was instantly surrounded by victorious classmates and clapped on the back and congratulated him with amazement. Emrys smiled and returned to his desk. Ravenclaws, after getting out their frustration in a few angry mutterings, clapped for the winning team.

"How did you know that?" Hermione asked over the commotion with a happy yet jealous look on her face.

Neville laughed. "The plant he used was called Gilfus's Candy! I studied it for Herbology!"

Harry rolled his eyes, of course Neville would know anything involving any type of magical herb.

Five minutes later, Harry, Ron, and Hermione left the class with Chocolate frogs. Everyone in the winning team got the strange candy and they were happily munching on chocolate as they read and exchanged cards with each other. As the golden trio walked to their next class, potions, Harry unwrapped his candy.

As he chewed on the struggling frog made of chocolate, he studied his card. A painted old man gave a wink at Harry as he read the name of the man.

" _Merlin,_

 _Known by both Muggles and Wizard-kind alike from the legends of King Arthur. He is theorized to be the most powerful warlock in history though there is no evidence of him or King Arthur actually existing. Legends say he was born at the end of the 5th century and lived to see the beginning of the 6th._ "

He sighed. He had already gotten Merlin.

* * *

 **AN: THANK YOU FOR READING YOU WONDERFUL PEOPLE OF THE WORLD.**


	4. Chapter 4: Creepy Chibi Voldi

**AN: OMB guys. Thank you so much for the Favorites, Follows, and most of all the Reviews. I was so scared that the last chapter sucked, but you guys regained my confidence.**

 **In this chapter I mention something called The Quill of Acceptance and The Book of Admittance. It's the thing that detects wizard children and it writes their names down to be admitted into Hogwarts when they turn 11. If you want to know more, JK Rowling made an article of it on Pottermore.**

 **Now, before I start to ramble, the chapter shall begin.**

 **Disclaimer: Guess. I dare you.**

* * *

 _Merlin_

Sometimes Merlin wondered if there really was 24 hours in a day. Sometimes a day would drag on like someone put extra seconds in without anyone noticing, other days he felt like whole hours were removed while no one was looking. It's strange how even though every day is exactly the same amount of time, that it can seem to last longer or shorter than others.

His first day teaching was certainly one that even the seconds felt like days. He could hardly express his relief when his last class left and the sun started to slowly sink over the beautiful tree covered mountains in the distance. The whole day had been fake smiles and avoided questions. One thing he learned was that the old History of Magic teacher Professor Binns did not like to teach legends, and many of the students were very interested in them. He was asked many questions about Mythology, different monsters, legends of old, and of course many Arthurian questions came up just because of his supposed last name.

He had a headache. Teaching was certainly harder than he thought it would be. In just one excruciatingly long day he was wondering if he really was cut out to teach. Maybe he should have turned himself 11 again and join the students side of things. Through, that would put him at a more difficult perspective to help Harry in his destiny. Also, it was extremely difficult to trick the Quill of Acceptance and The Book of Admittance. When he first admitted into Hogwarts many years ago, he head to _break_ into the school, find the book and quill, and convince it to write his name in the book. The book was especially stubborn - every time the Quill came close to writing Merlin's aliases of Myrddin Black (He thought it was safe to use the name "Myrddin" because that name came from a Muggle myth about Merlin, why would any witch or wizard recognize that?) the book would snap shut before any silver ink could touch it's page. Eventually, he got the book to stay open and then his name was written, three days later he got an acceptance letter to Hogwarts.

He'd rather not go through that mess again. He'd rather simply forge documents to get an identity in the magical community than ever see that stubborn book again.

He sighed and leaned over. He was sitting at a desk in his small office connected to his classroom. He was working on planning lessons for tomorrow, or at least that is what anyone would think if they walked in on him.

In reality he was doing research. Research to secretly help destroy Voldemort. He had many books open to many different pages. From what he had heard, it seamed like the snake like man was _immortal_. He had survived death more than once and came back from it as well. That should not be possible. Merlin himself is immortal of course, but if he's hit with a killing curse you won't see him getting back up. Merlin considered himself more as an enduring creature that can ignore the laws of age. But Voldemort on the other hand… shouldn't be possible. The Old Religion, though not commonly used, still controls the laws of life and death. For a life to be given, another must be taken. The law must be obeyed or it will cause chaos. How could Voldemort ignore that law and continue to live even when his spell supposedly backfired that Halloween many years ago?

He could only come up with theories. He had seen many things over his years that could come up with a somewhat logical explanation as to why the Old Religion hadn't reacted to the impossible resurrection of Voldemort. And each explanation he came up with was more _horrible_ than the last one. Many people have attempted immortality, though many rituals and spells they used ultimately failed. Merlin is sure that only a few have ever come out successful, and even then the spells were easily broken and resulted in a rather vulgar death.

He considered the influence of the Cup of Life. Merlin lost track of it centuries ago, and maybe Voldemort for a hold on the cup and put his blood in it. That method certainly made it possible for Morgana and Morgause's immortal army. But, it was a very risky method. Once the blood is removed from the cup, the owner of the red liquid will basically explode into nothingness. He doubted Voldemort would take a risk like that. The man was sly and very thinking. He planned everything out before actually going through with a plan. Why would he make a risk like the Cup of Life?

But, as much as Merlin did not want to admit it, he would prefer it for the Cup of Life to be the answer. All the other ways to immortality were… troublesome.

A voice spoke up that interrupted his thoughts.

"I didn't think you would be back so soon," said a familiar voice with a sneer.

Merlin looked up from his desk and glared at the Bloody Baron. "Sorry?"

The Baron returned the glare and stood a step - or something close to a step considering he was floating, being a ghost and all - towards Merlin. His clothes swished and Merlin flinched at the sight of the silver blood. "Don't play coy, boy. How many times have you been here over the centuries. Three? Four?"

"I don't know what you are accusing me of," Merlin replied eyeing the house ghost of Slytherin.

"Don't you think I'm stupid, _Emrys_ ," the Baron spat out the name. "Us ghosts are very… attuned to the world of the dead. We know when someone should be dead, and you should be just that ten times over."

Merlin smirked. "What proof do you have of these accusations?"

The Baron stared at the warlock with a thinking look. Crossed his arms and gave a look of victory. "Last time I saw you, you were just a little student in the 17th century. Myrddin was it? And before that in the 15th century you went by Adam, and before that, when I was still a lad. You helped found Hogwarts."

Merlin's grin widened. "Good to see you, old friend."

Both ghost and man burst into laughter. Merlin stood up from his desk and leaned against the wall. "It took you quicker to figure me out this time," he said.

"Your magic is very recognizable," the Baron shrugged. "Even that fool Nick is suspecting that there's something unique about you."

Merlin rolled his eyes. The ghosts were very perspective to say the least. They seemed to be able to sense the Old Religion, though they didn't even know it. Merlin remembered meeting Fat Friar the Hufflepuff ghost for the first time, the man was so surprised that he forgot how to float straight and he fell through the floor right into the Headmistress's (at the time) sleeping chambers as she was preparing for bed. Well, long story short: the Fat Friar gained a new fear of women that day.

He spotted the blood again on the Baron's clothes. He sighed sadly, remembering the tale. "Hows Helena?"

The Baron's eyes became distant. "Not very good. She has became rather distant in the last few years."

Merlin tilted his head in confusion. "Why? Hasn't she been doing better?"

"Oh yes she has been. Years ago she was considered the life of the party, considering that she's dead… and I was finally starting to think I could ask for her forgiveness… but then a boy showed up. I don't know what happened but ever since the boy talked to her, she spiraled into a state worse that what she had been in before. She seems obsessed with the memory of her mother, and becomes very defensive when someone mentioned Rowena's diadem."

"The diadem?" Merlin repeated, remembering the small crown Rowena Ravenclaw always wore. It was said to give the wearer knowledge beyond anything they could ever imagine. Of course that was all just hogwash, but it didn't change the fact that people beloved it. Rowena's daughter stole the diadem with the hopes that she would become filled with it's knowledge, she then hid it. Even as a ghost she never told anyone where exactly she hid it. Not even Merlin could pry it out of her.

The Baron nodded sadly. "Since then, she hates any living creature and goes out of her way to remain alone. I fear that the boy so many decades ago did something to her mother's diadem, but she won't tell me anything."

"Who was the boy?"

The Baron looked at Merlin with a thoughtful expression. "I think his name was Tom, though it was many years ago I could be wrong."

The name sent a shiver down Merlin's spine. He felt like he should recognize the name Tom. He wondered what he could have done to the Grey Lady to make her as she is today.

After a few moments of silence, the Bloody Baron sighed sadly. "Now, I must go. That _Squib_ Filch caught Peeves throwing questionable substances at second years, so of course I have to take care of it."

Merlin nodded with a tight jaw and tried to ignore the way the ghost spat out the word 'Squib' like it was a poison. He hated this blood status fab that had appeared recently. People seem to think that if both their parents were magic, then they were more superior to children born from Muggles. He really wanted to just tell the world that he was Merlin, and that his mother was a Muggle and he was still the most powerful warlock to ever live. The reactions to the oh so noble purebloods would be totally worth giving up his identity.

The Baron nodded and went to leave the office. (More like go through the wall, but you know). But he stopped a few inches from the door and turned again towards Merlin. "Myrddin, or Emrys, or what ever you go by now, I do not know who you really are or what you are here to do. But I do know you must be back for a reason, and I trust you know what you're doing, you were the best student Slytherin ever had after all. But, tread carefully. There is many things happening in the mortal world that even a powerful wizard like you can't interfere with. Destiny is a strange thing and not easily rewritten."

"I am aware, Baron," Merlin replied. "Now, if you excuse me, I have some work I have to do," he said waving his hand to his desk.

The Baron nodded sadly. "Of course." Then he left and Merlin was left alone in his chambers once again.

* * *

 _Harry_

The first week of school has been a very interesting one indeed, and also painfully exhausting. In just a couple days Harry found himself using every free moment he had to write essays or finishing up worksheets. He barely had time to think!

They were already practicing advanced spells in Transfiguration, and it didn't help that McGonagall wanted them to be able to cast spells without saying anything. Defence Against the Dark Arts was just dreadful. Snape would drone on about random boring things then find every excuse to piss Harry off. Charms was the main culprit of his homework, and History of Magic was getting even more complicated and harder to focus on.

Harry found that the only class he wasn't close to death in was surprisingly Potions.

Finding the Half-Blood Prince's book was surely a gift from God. The slanted cursive notes in the old _Advanced Potion-Making_ book had saved Harry many of times. He had quickly became Slughorn's favorite student, much to the annoyance of Hermione. Well, what didn't annoy Hermione?

Ron thought the book was brilliant. The two boys would often theorize who the previous owner of it was and Hermione would roll her eyes and make a comment of how the book shouldn't be trusted. Harry wondered why she was so sceptical about the book, if was such an amazing thing to have. The scribbled notes and the added instructions, the annotations and the changes, it all was very useful, so he didn't see why Hermione was so against the book.

Ginny, of course, was angry about the book as well. Actually, she was more angry about Harry willingly following the instructions in the book more that the book itself. He couldn't blame her though, last time both of them listened to a strange book lead them to the Chamber of Secrets, almost killing them both.

But still! Because he got the book he had won a vial of Felix Felicis! Does none of his friends realize how useful the bottle of liquid luck could be in the future? They should be a bit more grateful to the Prince.

Well, besides from the book and homework, Harry had other things on his mind as well. It's been a few days since Harry's first lesson with Dumbledore, and he was still filled with what he had saw. The memory of a Ministry worker called Ogden and his visit to the house of Gaunt, or more commonly known as Marvolo, Voldemort's grandfather. The memory swam through Harry's head constantly. How Ogden came to announce a hearing for Marvolo's son Morfin, how Merope (Marvolo's daughter who was thought to be a Squib) had lived a life constantly struggling. He pondered the information Dumbledore had told him about that woman, how she drugged Tom Riddle the senior into falling in love with her. How he left before her baby was born. What bothered Harry is that Dumbledore seemed to constantly avoid the topic of the ring and his blackened arm, Harry couldn't help but think the two were connected.

Harry was suddenly made aware that someone was calling his name.

He looked up and saw that Hermione was staring at him with an exasperated face. They were in the library doing homework during a free period while sitting at their usual table. He raised an eyebrow at her. "What?"

She rolled her eyes. "Aren't you going to tell us what the lesson with Dumbledore was about?"

Ron nodded, shoving a huge book called _Nonverbal Spells for Dummies_ away from him and brushed some red hair out of his face. "Yeah mate. It's been long enough."

Harry checked around him to make sure they were alone. After finding that they were in fact alone, he leaned over the table and so did his two friends. "Dumbledore showed me a memory of V- Tom Riddle's grandfather Marvolo," he whispered. Just in case that they were somehow heard by unwanted ears, Harry referred to Voldemort with his real name.

Hermione's eyes widened. "What happened?"

Harry quickly told what he had seen in the memory and Hermione eyes would widen with every word, then ask questions every once in awhile. Ron remained silent with a thoughtful look. Once Harry finished telling what happened, Ron breathed out.

"Bloody, You-know-who's mom was a Squib and his dad was a Muggle…"

"Did you hear Harry, Ron?" Hermione snapped. "Merope was only thought to be a Squib. Once her father and brother went to Azkaban, she became able to use magic enough to enchant Tom Riddle."

"But still, his dad was still a Muggle. You'd think he was pureblood… but he's a half-blood?" Ron asked shaking his head. "It's weird because he thinks that blood status is everything."

Harry shook his head. "It's the Death Eaters that believe that whether you're pureblood or not is worth anything. The only thing Tom wants is to have js power over death and to rid the world of Muggles and Muggleborns. Otherwise he doesn't care who you are as long as you have magic."

Hermione sighed. "Well, blood status doesn't matter anyway. What matters is _why_ Dumbledore showed this to you."

Harry shrugged. "I don't know. He just said we had to know Vo- Tom's past, that it was important."

"Well, hopefully he will show you more next time. I don't see how this information is what we need to defeat You-know-who," Ron sighed.

"Yeah," Harry agreed.

After a few minutes of silence, the trio continued in their homework, though none of their minds were fully there. They each had different thoughts on their minds, the new information hardly made it easier to focus in their schoolwork, if anything it made it harder.

* * *

 _Merlin, a few minutes before._

Merlin walked into the library. He didn't have a class to teach at the present moment so he decided to spend his time studying more into what could possibly make someone immortal without consequences of the Old Religion. He had used up his own personal library and had decided to broaden his search for answers.

Since he was a teacher, he was allowed free access to the Restricted Section, so after telling Madam Pince that he will be in the forbidden-to-students section - to which he earned a suspicious glance - he started his search.

The restricted books all had an eerie feeling to them. Some even had a slight trace of Old Religion on them. Some he just knew were filled with darker magic than Morgana herself would ever attempt - which, hopefully, were filled with the answers he was looking for.

He started his search after he shrugged and grabbed the first book he saw. It was black leather and bound shut with a belt made of the same material. It had no title but it defiantly looked like it hid many secrets. As he quietly worked at the buckle holding the book shut, something caught his ear.

" _Aren't you going to tell us what Dumbledore's lesson was about?_ "

It was the Granger girl… the one usually hanging out with Harry. He quietly put the book down and used his magic to make himself invisible. He peeked around a bookshelf and saw Harry, Ron, and Hermione sitting at a table, deep in conversation. He suddenly felt terrible. What was he doing listening in on a group of students conversation? He shook his head and was about to walk away when Harry said something that made Merlin stop in his tracks.

" _There was a girl there too, Dumbledore said she was Vo- Tom's mom-"_

Tom? Surely it had to be just a happenstance. He had almost forgotten about his conversation with the Baron a week before, _almost._ He had tried everything in his power to find the identity of the boy that made Helena the way she is now, but to no avail. He shook his head again. How could the Tom's be the same person, that would be absurd.

But he stayed and listened anyway. And it was quite the story. He felt guilty for listening in, but hey, poking his nose into people's business seemed to be 'part of his charm'. He had done it so many times back in Camelot that it seemed more like a skill than anything. How many times had snooping around saved Arthur's life? Let alone Camelot?

" _Bloody, You-know-who's mom was a Squib and his dad was a Muggle…"_

" _Did you hear Harry, Ron?_ " Hermione snapped. " _Merope was only thought to be a Squib. Once her father and brother went to Azkaban, she became able to use magic enough to enchant Tom Riddle._ "

Merlin's eyebrows rose enough to rival Gaius. They were talking about Voldemort's parents!? And what more, it seemed that Voldemort's real name was Tom as well, it didn't make sense for this Merope to be both the mother and wife to the same Tom.

He thought back to what the Baron said, that the boy Tom did something to the Grey Lady, and she has been getting defensive about her mother's diadem. But what would Voldemort want to do with Helena? It just seemed he accidentally stumbled once again into another piece of the puzzle. He walked away from the teenagers feeling content that he might have just found something out. He considered confronting Dumbledore, but thought better of it. It would very confusing for a new teacher to suddenly be asking about the most feared dark wizard. It seemed he was on his own with figuring out all this new information.

* * *

 **AN: Things are starting! Yay!**


	5. Chapter 5: Emrys vs Slughorn

**AN: Sorry I took longer than normal to update… but oh well, I'm back!**

 **Shorter chapter this time, but hey, at least I got one out for you peeps.**

 **THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR THE REVIEWS AND ALERTS GUYS! like always, I'll answer any and all reviews after the chapter.**

 **Disclaimer: Good news! I now own both Merlin and Harry Potter! *lie detector beeps***

* * *

 _Harry_

Harry walked back into the Gryffindor common room late into the night. He was exhausted and extremely annoyed at every single thing in the whole entire world. He had just spent two hours in Snape's promised detention and he never knew he could hate the teacher more than he already had. _Two hours_ of sorting _flobberworms!_ The creatures were incredible boring and possessed close to no uses. The ugly creatures only useful part was it's mucus, which is used for some potions, but that's about it. And unsurprisingly, it was that very substance that stuck to Harry's hands like glue, all because Snape had _insisted_ that he leaves his gloves.

There were a million names Harry wanted to call the professor, but he doubted half of them were appropriate for a child's ear.

And as luck would have it, Snape's detention wasn't the only thing that day that annoyed Harry to no extent.

His day started with of course classes, which Harry never found to be too much of a nuance until it became practically required to be able to use nonverbal spells, and only Hermine and a couple other students have managed it so far, everyone else were forced to attempt spells until their faces were blue, watching as their grades plummeted. Ron had resorted to mumbling spells under his breath but was unfortunately caught by Hermione during charms, and you wouldn't _believe_ the earful he got after that.

There were of course more problems other than classes. If classes were Harry's only woe in the world he would eat the Sorting Hat. Seriously.

Dumbledore was usually not around and Harry was left in the dust to ponder if he'd ever even get a second lesson from the wizened wizard. He hadn't seen much less heard from the headmaster since the first lesson a week ago. He was starting to wonder if that was all that Dumbledore planned to show him. Harry felt anger pump through his veins, the old wizard _promised_ to tell Harry everything.

Another thing that could possibly bother Harry throughout the day was his friend's persistent denial of Draco Malfoy's guilt of being a Death Eater. It was frustrating how literally no one believed him, and the _Daily Prophet_ that morning didn't help his claim. Mr Weasley and some other Ministry workers searched the Malfoy Manor for any items of Dark Magic but ultimately came back out empty handed. It was infuriating that no dirt had been turned up on Draco, even though it was so _obvious_ that he started working for Voldemort!

Speaking of the _Daily Prophet,_ Harry has been informed that the Ministry - with little surprise in Harry's part - is being stupid once again. What did they possibly hope to accomplish by arresting Stan?! Harry seriously doubted the young Night Bus caterer could be a Death Eater, much less _evil_ at all.

Harry sighed and walked to the boys dormitories while trying his best to remove the caked on mucus from the flobberworms, though he was failing horribly at it. He was sure he'd have to have to either wash his hands and arms with a power hose, or beg Hermione for some kind of convenient spell.

He slumped onto his four-poster bed and rolled his eyes at Ron's snoring next to him, then got to work at putting on his pajamas.

At least the _whole_ day hadn't been a complete mess. Ron, Hermione, and him were able to finally get Hagrid to talk to them (the half giant had been angry at them since the first day of classes when he found out they hadn't taken his class). They fed him a lie that they had no room for his class on his schedule, forced down a few rock cakes, then left with Hagrid once again their friend. It felt good to know that Hagrid no longer hated then for not taking his class.

Another good thing was that the Gryffindor Quidditch team was finally put together after a long and tedious tryout that half the house attended. Chasers were Katie, Demelza, and Ginny, all wonderful talented young women that made Harry almost look forward to the match. The two new Beaters - Jimmy Peaks and Ritchie Coote - were nothing compared to Fred and George, but he was still content with them, both had promising talent. Ron had returned 'miraculously' as a Keeper. And by 'miraculously' he means that Hermione made Cormac McLaggen mess up his last shot and guaranteed Ron's position. Oh well, p _o_ tato pot _a_ to.

His team has promise, but needs practice. He also worried for Ron, even though he caught all five throws doesn't mean he won't get stage fright during actual games. Well, he'll just have to cross that bridge when he came to it.

He crawled into his bed and stared up into space. The next day will be a Sunday, that means no class, no Quidditch, no waking up early, and if Hermione permits it - no homework. He made it his personal goal to not even get out of bed unless he wanted to eat or use the restroom tomorrow as his eyelids slowly slid shut.

* * *

Sunday came and went, and before Harry knew it he was back to classes. Harry, Ron, and Hermione walked to the Great Hall just exiting History of Magic.

The class was getting harder and harder, yet it never ceased to interest Harry. There was something about how Emrys taught, like he wasn't just standing up there lecturing, but he was telling them stories! Harry had never paid attention so much in any other class besides Defence Against the Dark Arts - though that was untrue at the moment considering Snape taught that one, so he hardly paid attention at all.

Hermione sighed and sat down first at the Gryffindor table, Ron and Harry followed suite.

"Are you still mad at me, Hermione?" Harry asked, reaching for a slice of bread.

She glared at him. "I can't believe you kept the book, Harry. You have no idea of what could really be in it."

"Oh lay off, it's just a book with better instructions," Ron said said rolling his eyes.

"Look Hermione, the Prince is the only thing keeping me alive in Potions. You can use it too if you want," Harry replied cooly.

Hermione huffed and turned to her lunch.

While they ate, Harry looked up at the head table expectantly, but was disappointed when Dumbledore was nowhere to be seen once again. He wondered where he could be and what he was doing, it's not like him to suddenly disappear without telling someone. He made a mental note to ask McGonagall later.

After a few minutes of silence, Ron finally broke it. "I can't believe we have to write a 13 inch essay for History of Magic. Maybe it was a mistake to take the class."

"I personally really like the class," Hermione chipped in, picking at her meal.

Harry swallowed some food he was chewing. "That's just because you have a crush on Emrys," he said with a smirk.

Hermione blushed as red as Ron's hair, but then she quickly masked the embarrassing show of an embarrassing emotion with a glare. "I do not have… have a c-crush on him!" She said, stumbling over her words.

Ron rolled his eyes. "Every bloody girl in Hogwarts have a crush on him. I think it's the accent."

Hermione blushed again, and said nothing.

* * *

 _Merlin_

Once again, it was an end to another day, and Merlin welcomed it.

He was starting to get the hang of teaching through it was still exhausting to do. He wished he could just earn Harry's trust and so he could just be told all that he needed to know to help, not run off in the middle of the night for unlikely clues.

So far, his research on how Voldemort achieved immortality is bearing no fruits. The only thing he had actually uncovered about the man was that he attended Hogwarts as a student called Tom Riddle, which really wasn't much to go on.

He sat in the teacher's lounge listening to the snapping of the fireplace. He shifted in the armchair and soon found himself lost in his worries and thoughts. So much so he hadn't noticed Professor Slughorn enter the mostly empty room.

"Emrys!" He called joyfully, catching sight of Merlin.

Merlin jumped and was brought to the present time. He looked at the old man then slipped into a fake grin. "Horace, how do you do?"

"Oh just swell, just swell indeed," Slughorn said lowering himself into a chair by the fireplace. "Classes are going splendidly, there are many marvelous students this year, namely Harry Potter."

Merlin looked at the happy man with interest. "Is that so?"

Slughorn nodded. "Oh yes, when I heard from Severus that the boy was - hmm to quote it… 'incompetent' I just couldn't believe it! Harry is the best in his class!"

Merlin chuckled to himself. He didn't have the heart to tell the man that he overheard Harry, Ron, and Hermione during his class talking about the Half-Blood Prince's book.

"He surely is his mother's son. Lilly, you see, she was very skilled with the arts of Potions and-"

"Wait, you taught Harry's mother?" Merlin asked, his attention suddenly caught.

"Why of course!" Slughorn said like it was the most obvious thing in the world. "I've taught her and many other famous witches and wizards! I've taught for fifty years as a Hogwarts Potions Master before retiring in 1981, though I-"

Merlin stopped listening for a moment as excitement flooded his veins. Maybe, just maybe, not all was lost. "Horace," he said suddenly, making Slughorn stop mid-sentence of the list of 'famous' people he taught.

"What?" He asked with a quirked eyebrow.

"I've… been wondering…" oh gosh how does he word this without freaking out the old man? "I recently saw an award in the trophies room… and I was wondering if you could tell me more of the recipient of it… our of pure curiosity of course," he added quickly hoping to not sound too suspicious.

Slughorn puffed his chest. "Well, go on. I'm sure I taught most of every student that has earned a trophy in that room,"

"Well, he was awarded the, oh what was it, the Medal for Magical Merit," he said, studying Slughorn's face. "I think his name was Tom M. Riddle."

Slughorn's face paled and twisted in a surprised/angry combo. "W-what in earth- I- Why in the world are you asking me this."

Merlin's heart sunk. It seemed Slughorn already knew that they weren't talking about any student, but the darkest sorcerer since Morgana. Even though he already suspected that Slughorn didn't want to talk about the past version of Voldemort, he put on a innocent face. "Oh I'm just curious, I saw the award and it was such a high honor, I wanted to know how a mere 15 year old could be awarded something as special as what he did."

Slughorn suddenly stood up, his chest heaving and his face red. "Don't," he said shooting a glare at the History of Magic professor. "Don't ever ask me about that man ever again."

And without so much as a goodbye, Slughorn stomped out of the room.

Usually, Merlin would be disappointed when things didn't go as easily as he would have hoped, but at the current moment, he actually felt _excited._ He finally had some kind of lead, and a big one by the looks of it. Even though Slughorn will clearly be difficult, it was still a step closer to the truth Merlin is looking for.

He wasn't even mad that Slughorn sped off. After all, he had always loved a challenge.

* * *

 **AN: Floof.**


	6. Chapter 6: To Hogsmede We Go!

**OMB guys, I'm honestly speechless. Over 100 frick frackin followers. Thank you guys so much.**

 **im not completely satisfied with this chapter, but it will lead into fun things, so bear with me.**

* * *

 _?_

It was night time as he snuck out of the castle in the dead of night. The breeze blew harshly as storm clouds gathered above his head. He gathered his scarf closer to his already rosy cheeks and shot a quick glance around him.

Seeing that no one was around to catch him, he took a shaky breath then made his way through the Hogwarts castle grounds.

He soon found himself at the castle gates, tall wiry poles winded themselves around each other making an impossible barrier to pass unless one knew how to undo it. He didn't know how to do it, but fortunately, the man waiting for him on the other side of it did.

"You know what to do, Draco?" Snape said with his arms crossed. He seemed unaffected by the cold and Draco envied him for that.

"Idiot," Draco snapped, already in a bad mood because of the cold wind. "Of course I do, now open the gate so I can get on with it."

Snape stared down at the boy with an unreadable expression. He then sighed. "I promised your mother I would look after you."

Draco rolled his eyes and drew his jacket closer to him when a gust of wind blew to his very bones. He didn't have time or patience for this. He was cold, annoyed, tired, and though he wouldn't admit it - he was scared. At the thought of what he was about to do, fear bubbled in his chest, but he quickly pushed the feeling down. "My mother is paranoid. The Dark Lord chose me to do this, so open the dang gate and let me through, _Professor."_ He hissed the last word.

Snape shot him a glare, then his shoulders hunched slightly in defeat. At a quick wave of his wand, the gate uncoiled itself with a groan and in a few seconds a gaping hole opened with enough room for Draco to pass through, so he did so. He trudged towards the bat like man and pushed against the now howling wind. He stopped next to Snape and scowled at him. "Now, give it to me," he said holding out a gloved hand.

Snape eyed his hand, let out a deep breath and dropped the package in Draco's hand. "Make sure you don't touch it, and be back before sunrise," was all he said before walking into the gate, then closing it before making his way back to the castle.

Draco stared at the gate for a minute, contemplating what he was about to do. After this moment, there was no going back. He stuffed the package in his pocket then unconsciously rubbed his left forearm that constantly felt like snakes crawling around it. He hated the thing what was branded on it. It felt unnatural and satanic, all he wanted was to forever get the burning thing off his arm, but he knew he would never be able to. He will have to forever get used to the mark and pretend to wear it with pride, because if he didn't, he doubted the Dark Lord would be pleased. He gulped at the thought of what would happen to him if the Dark Lord ever found out about his unsure loyalties.

He shook his head, banishing the thoughts that swam in his head, then walked towards Hogsmeade.

* * *

 _Merlin_

His eyes snapped open and he started awake with a cold sweat.

He looked around him in a panic into the darkness of his room and tried to control his breathing. It was all around him, suffocating him, bearing down on him… a darkness… an unexplainable evil lurked. It was so unholy and unnatural, it surely was made of dark magic.

He clutched his chest and tried to control his breathing. After a few painstakingly long minutes passed, he noticed that the evil feeling was slowly getting further and further away. He gulped and took a few stuttering breaths before getting out of his bed. He wrapped his arms around his chest and paced around his dark room. He glanced at the window and groaned, the sun wasn't even up!

He slouched down in an arm chair. What could that terrible evil he felt be? It reminded him of Morgana herself, it was something that claimed many lives without mercy. But why was it at Hogwarts? With Voldemort back, Hogwarts was the safest place to be (which was as comforting as much as unsettling because it made him worry what was going on all around England). He wanted to shake the shoulders of parents that are pulling their students out of school, out of a selfish fear of being away from their children.

But now… an evil so great came to Hogwarts. He wondered what it could possibly be, and how it got so close to the safest place on earth. Or what he had hoped was the safest place… Dumbledore was the only person Voldemort remotely feared, and the old man had only shown his face once or twice in the past couple weeks.

He shook his head to try and clear his thoughts. Right now, Dumbledore was gone, so he was the only one who could protect Hogwarts. He stood up with determination, deciding to find the intruding dark magic instead of wondering what it was. So he grabbed his wand and walked briskly out of his bedroom.

He sped walked down long confusing corridors and made his way down steep stair cases. He was just a few minutes from the front doors of the castle before literally running into someone.

He fell backwards with a surprised yelp but caught himself just in time. He looked at the one he ran into with interest.

There stood Snape, looking shaken but annoyed.

"O-oh Severus!" He said with a nervous voice. He swallowed and continued "What are you doing down here?"

Snape glared at Merlin. "That's what I would like to ask you, I have patrolling rounds, yet you're out here in a hurry and I can't help but wonder why."

Merlin raised an eyebrow. He smiled and came up with a lie, he was very good at those after all. (Or at least that's what he liked to think he was). "A cat snuck into my office and stole an item of mine, I was trying to chase it down."

"Well I saw no cat run out of the school, Emrys," Snape said, eyeing the warlock with suspicion.

Merlin shrugged, "I guess it didn't come this way."

"Indeed… well, I suggest you head back to whatever you were doing before people start to wonder if you're… up to something."

Then without so much of a goodbye, Snape left after giving a narrowed glance at Merlin.

Merlin let out a deep breath, then looked frantically at the front doors of the castle. The evil presence had completely disappeared, there was no use chasing after it now. He silently cursed Snape for distracting him, then made his way back to his bedroom.

* * *

It was October but it certainly didn't look that way. If you'd look out the window you'd see something that much more closely resembled winter in Antarctica. The snow pelted down from the heavens and covered everything in sight, though you couldn't see much anyway because the dark puffy clouds in the sky that covered the sun.

Most students were worried that the trip to Hogsmeade would be canceled, and Merlin worried as well about that. He had barely gotten any sleep the night before, his mind refused to let him sleep when a potentially evil and dangerous item was lurking around nearby. He was hoping that he could accompany the students to Hogsmeade and put his troubled thoughts to rest, so he could do so as well.

Many teachers have asked him if he was all right, you'd think that being pretty much immortal and all would get rid of the ugly results of loss of sleep but _no_ , the dark bags under his eyes showed themselves proudly on his already pasty skin. So he just grinned and said that he's been up all night planning lessons, some teachers would accept his answer, McGonagall gave him a pointed look, and Snape scoffed. Otherwise, most everybody believed he was doing normal teaching things, not running out in the middle of the night to capture an unknown presence.

By midday most of the cloud had cleared up and the students of Hogwarts found themselves heading towards the fully magic populated town of Hogsmeade. Merlin quickly made the excuse that he needed a break - which a lot of people agreed to because of his odd behavior and black eyes - then found a substitute for his first and second years that wouldn't be accompanying the rest of the school. He pretended to go to his bedroom, then snuck out under an invisibility spell he had mastered centuries ago.

The only problem was Filch's sneakoscope that was being shoved and prodded at every living and breathing thing. Merlin feared that he would be caught, after all the sneakoscope detects things that are wanted to be hidden, and correct Merlin if he's wrong, but being invisible is usually a sign of wanting to be hidden.

As he waited patiently next to a large group of students, he saw that a perfect opportunity to get through undetected had presented itself in the form of a Weasley' Wizard Wheezes fanged frisbee a student was trying to smuggle out. The moment the small top shaped device in Filch's hand started to whistle loudly, Merlin dashed out through the doors. He ran a few minutes before realizing that he was literally running on a few inches of fresh snow.

Cursing himself, he whispered a spell to cover his tracks, marveling at the fact that no one noticed the footprints.

Well, that's what he had hoped.

"Ooh lookie lookie here! Peevies has found a sneaker he has!"

Merlin swore as he spun around and faced the personification of mischief called Peeves. He was still invisible when Peeves floated slightly towards the warlock, the strong wind and snow passing through him effortlessly.

"Could it be ickle-Harry-kins and his friends?" Peeves said gleefully. "But why would he be sneaking out I wonders, maybe he's smuggling somethings?"

Merlin glanced around him and finding that other than Peeves that he was alone he quickly pointed a hand at the poltergeist and a flash of gold in his eyes later, Peeves found himself in the rather sticky situation of being frozen solid on the snow covers ground, a grin personally on his face, though his eyes were shocked. Merlin thanked the heavens above that the magic of the Old Religion was strong enough to stop an untouchable being from blowing his cover.

He pulled his jacket close to his body and wrapped a scarf tighter to his neck, then set off to follow to where the students were being loaded into seemingly horseless carriages.

Students gathered into said carriages pulled by Thestrals - leathery horse looking creatures that Merlin had always been able to see - and then found themselves being lead away to Hogsmeade. Merlin on the other hand didn't want to frighten anyone when an invisible being randomly and suddenly took up space in one of the carriages, so he took to walking silently besides them. He whispered spells to keep his footsteps hidden and to muffle his constant stumbling - he has never gotten out of the habit of being clumsy.

And before long they had arrived at Hogsmeade, a village that Merlin felt very connected to.

Even though it was a gathering of magical homes, there were still Muggles living within it, people that were squibs or family of other wizards, or sometimes they were just a friend of a witch, or had a child that possessed a gift, whatever the reason was, Merlin still smiled at the thought of Muggles and Magic-folk living together in harmony. It was a representation of what he had failed to achieve in Camelot, yet it was a beacon of hope saying ' _Maybe someday._ '

But not today. Today there was a terrible feeling in the air, the similar one to that he had discovered in the middle of the night. A terrible evil was _in_ Hogsmeade. His shoulders sagged, there was a bad feeling surrounding him, it defiantly suggested a cursed item of dark magic, but it wasn't the same one he felt the night before. This one was certainly evil, but not quite as much as the other one.

He decided that even though the source wouldn't be what he had hoped to find on his way to Hogsmeade, he still had to check it out, so he set off into the town, trying to find the source of evil that no one else could sense. As he snuck around he saw the Weasley girl - Ginny - snogging Dean Thomas in a couple's shop, Hagrid sneak out of the forest - much to Merlin's curiosity of _why_ -, Harry, Ron, and Hermione were sipping Butterbeer in a hushed conversation, he even saw Draco bully a third year Hufflepuff for the poor kids candy. Yet he saw no evil source of dark magic.

It was covering all of Hogsmeade and it was impossible to track to the exact spot.

He groaned and leaned against a wall in an alleyway. He was exhausted and the dark magic in the air was just making it worse for him to keep his thoughts straight. He was torn between laying down to sleep or searching the whole town till midnight. But he was cold, he was tired, and he was annoyed that he was the only one who seemed to notice that anything was wrong.

Just before he was about to turn and go back to the castle before he was missed in defeat, he spotted two girls walk out of _The Three Broomsticks._

"Come on, Katie. I don't like the feeling of that thing… where did you get it?" One asked.

Katie blinked, almost in a daze. "It's fine, Leanne," she said in a growl. She clutched a small package in her hand and Merlin's gut twisted at the very sight of it. It was at that moment that he realized that the small package was the source he was looking for. "It's a surprise for someone back at Hogwarts, I was asked to deliver it."

Leanne eyed the package with narrowed eyes. "Who's it to then?"

Katie remained silent and started her way down the street. Merlin noted that Leanne started to ask more and more questions and both girls were getting more and more annoyed with each other. Just as the golden trio exited the Three Broomsticks themselves Katie reeled on her friend with a snarl. "It's nothing to do with you, Leanne!" She screeched. Merlin followed behind Harry, Ron, and Hermione with a terrible feeling that he knew what was going on.

He had Katie in his class, and Katie was definitely not acting herself at all. And the only possible reason as to why must be the Imperius Curse. He had seen it used many times throughout his long life and it was easy to notice the effects of it to a trained eye. He himself had been under it's influence many times from evil sorcerers thinking he was a Muggle, or during wars an enemy wizard would sneak up behind him and use the unforgivable spell on him, so he made sure that he was immune to the curse.

But Katie, clearly, was not immune to the spell.

To his utter horror Leanne lunged at the package, and acting before thinking like usual, he lifted his hand and yelled a spell as his eyes flashed a rich gold, which resulted in knocking the package feet away from both girls.

Katie made a mad scramble for the package but Merlin was too quick, he immediately and effectively used his wand to immobilize her.

" _Petrificus totalus!_ " He yelled. Katie instantly went rigid and landed in the snow like a board.

* * *

 **AN: meep**


	7. Chapter 7: A Ghost Feels

**AN: Thank you guys so much for the awesome reviews.**

 **SORRY IF THE CHAPTER SEEMS RUSHED AND SLOPPY, I EXPLAIN WHY AFTER THE CHAPTER WHY ITS NOT AS DETAILED AS THEY USUALLY ARE**

* * *

 _Harry_

It has been an interesting day to say the least; the snow falling in the middle of October was proof enough.

By midday all Harry wanted was to lay down and have a nice, long nap but he knew he _really_ couldn't do that, not with the events that just took place before him.

Harry thought that what he was seeing was a normal fight between friends but when Katie snarled something at Leanne and Leanne suddenly lunging for something in the Chasers hand, he instantly knew that something was off. His suspicions were confirmed when a small package was suddenly whipped from Katie's hand and the next second she froze and fell to the ground, completely straight and unmoving, except for her eyes that desperately moved around. It was easy to tell that she wanted to scream, because Harry went through the same thing when Draco petrified him on the Hogwarts Express.

He pushed the anger down that sparked from the memory of Draco being a butt as he usually is, then hurried over to Katie and the panicking Leanne.

But he stopped short when someone got to the girls first. And it wasn't Ron or Hermione, it was Emrys who quite literally appeared out of nowhere.

"P-Professor!" Hermione exclaimed, stopping in her tracks to the girls when she recognized the History of Magic teacher.

Ron stopped next to his two friends and stared worried at the scene before them.

Emrys seemed to not of heard the curly haired girl and he continued to study the petrified Katie.

"W-what-" Leanne started, but stopped when hiccuping sobs took over her. After a few seconds of catching her breath, she _glared_ at the teacher. "What h-happened t-t-to her? What did y-you do?"

Harry didn't understand why Leanne was suddenly accusing the teacher, but then he realized why with a crash of memory. Harry had originally thought that Katie just got petrified, not that someone had actually casted a spell. He remembered hearing something yelled, both when the package flew and before Katie got charmed.

"I'm sorry…" Emrys finally whispered. "She's under the Imperius Curse…"

Before he could have said anything else, Hermione left her spot next to Harry and marched up to Katie with her hair bouncing behind her.

* * *

 _Hermione_

She hadn't realized that she walked straight towards the teacher until she was standing above his kneeling form. He was crouching next to Katie and melting the snow around her with his wand, probably to make her for comfortable she realized. His eyes were filled with worry and… guilt? - as they cautiously eyed the flung package a few feet away. Leanne has resumed her frightened sobbings.

She bit her lip, wondering why she felt she suddenly had the urge to comfort the teacher, but she didn't resist it. No one should resist the feelings to help someone.

She put her hand on Emrys's shoulder and she felt him physically tense at her touch, but she didn't release her gentle grip. She didn't know why she said the words that came out of her mouth not a few moments later, but they felt right to say.

"It's okay, it's not your fault."

* * *

 _Harry_

After Hermione walked over and said something to Emrys that only the two could hear, a figure bigger than any man came barrelling down the street, whom Harry recognized to be Hagrid.

In the next 30 minutes they had explained everything that happened to Katie then they arrived at Hogwarts. Hagrid carried her up to the medical ward and Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Emrys found and told McGonagall everything (because Dumbledore was away till the following Monday, they were forced to go to the second in command) as Filch took the package Emrys carefully picked up to Snape.

The next day Katie was released from the Imperious Curse, but Madam Pomfrey insisted that she be sent to St. Mungo's. They say Katie couldn't remember who cursed her, but Harry had his suspicions.

He had not told anyone about how Draco just _had_ to have been the one to cursed Katie. He had wanted to, but he realized that no one would believe him, so he kept it to himself and made it a personal goal to find a way to expose Draco Malfoy.

Snape had carefully studied the package and it was revealed to contain the cursed item that had claimed 13 Muggle lives just by its touch, the Opal Necklace. This made Harry suspect Draco even more, after all the last time he saw the cursed necklace was when it was at the very store Draco went to during the trip to Diagon Alley.

For the next couple days Emrys was nowhere to be seen. They say he was usually out around the Hogwarts grounds, seeming like he was searching for something. Black bags had formed under his eyes and he seemed more jumpy than usual, but no one, as usual, suspected anything other than the Golden Trio.

A few days passed and Harry soon found himself walking out of Dumbledore's office the following Monday for his second lesson. His head spun as he tried to comprehend the new information.

So Voldemort was as creepy as he is now when he was a kid. Good to know that Voldemort was never good, he didn't know if he could handle the thought of a _good_ Tom Riddle. Harry was absolutely sure that Voldemort was evil since day one, and that thought was comforting as well as troubling, because it contradicted the common thought that no one is born good or evil.

Because if anyone was born evil, it was definitely Voldemort.

He returned to the Commons room and told Hermione and Ron all that he saw and heard. How Dumbledore came to the eerie orphanage and how little Tom Riddle had an almost sadistic love for his unknown powers, how he had used them for his own gain. Stealing other kids precious things, scaring his fellow orphans, _hurting_ people, and how he was a Parseltongue (they had already known this fact but to see Voldemort at a young age be able to use it was new information in itself).

They talked and theorized until they couldn't stay awake any longer into the night, so they said their goodnights and went to bed.

Before Harry closed his eyes to sleep, he rubbed his forehead that constantly stung. He shook his head and busied himself thinking of the coming Quidditch match and how he will make it so Ron would survive it.

* * *

 _Baron_

He floated down the corridors, doing normal patrols and normal ghostly things. He caught a couple snogging in an empty closet and he instantly sent them crying to their common room. He didn't mean to make them cry, but he knew that sneaking up on a poor unsuspecting couple while covered in ghostly blood was tear inducing. He ignored the guilt and continued down the corridor.

But then he stopped. Because he felt something, and he hadn't felt _anything_ since he had taken his own life all those years ago.

It was tearing at his very _soul_ , and it hurt. He grabbed his chest and gasped, though ghosts really didn't need to gasp, but it still escaped his transparent lips. There was an agonizing pain that shot through him, and the next day he would find out he wasn't the only one who felt it.

Every creature around the world that was connected to the veil would feel this agonizing pain.

The pain of the veil itself tearing apart.

All the while he only had one thought.

That this was _not_ good.

* * *

 **AN: sorry for the rushed and sloppy chapter. Im also sorry it's short, I wanted to get something out for you guys today so I can do a certain chapter tomorrow. If you guys know what events take place after the Hogsmeade visit, you'll know why I saved them for tomorrow.**

 **I can't really answer all the Reviews because I have to be somewhere in 15 minutes, my brother is calling home from his mission, and after that I'm going to my dad's house… and I kind of answered every Review in my beginning AN… so sorry once again for rushed, short, and sloppy. The next chapter will be better.**

 **Thanks for all the Reviews though, I can't tell you how happy I was every time a new email popped up.**

 **Kay, I have to go.**

 **Bye!**


	8. Chapter 8: Not To Your Expectations?

**AN:** **Happy 90th Birthday Voldemort! What a fitting way to end 2016.**

 **So I have decided Merlin's wand. (I'm surprised no one asked me about this). I mentioned it was pear wood in the first chapter but I only did that because it was** _ **my**_ **wand wood on pottermore. But after careful consideration and stuff, I decided that if you read the description of Pear Wood on Pottermore, it fits Merlin. So Merlin's wand is Pear Wood, Phoenix feather, 14 inches, and surprisingly swishy.**

 **Now, time for the chapter!**

* * *

 _Merlin_

Pain. Fear. Distress. Anger. Countless negative emotions spun through his very soul and body. He was aware of screaming in the pitch darkness that surrounded him and he desperately wanted to open his eyes, but alas, it was pointless to even try.

He could feel it.

The veil was tearing and something was trying to come out. That was probably where the screaming was coming from. He remembered the countless wails of the Dorocha and whether he mentally or physically shivered, he didn't know, but he shivered all the same at the less than happy memory.

He was forced to listen, forced to feel. He wouldn't wake until he hard something that made his blood run cold. It was something he would remember even in the world of the awake.

A victorious and overjoyed laughter that was both bone chillingly familiar and evil.

The laugh of Morgana.

* * *

He awoke just as sunlight began to pour through his window. He groaned and rolled into his back while rubbing sleep out of his eyes. It's been several days since the poor misfortune of Katie and the Opal Necklace, and things were finally starting to settle down.

Or, more like the thought of someone trying to sneak something cursed and dangerous into Hogwarts was simply pushed to the corner of minds because more 'important' events laid ahead. Events like: the Gryffindor v. Slytherin Quidditch opening match.

Though, for Merlin, nothing really settled down. If anything, things were getting worse.

For the past almost week he had been pestered by his nightmares. And it's never something new, it's the same darkness, same hopelessness, same _laugh_ every night. The Ghosts continue to bother him about the veil and what could be happening to it, but he never knows what to tell them, because he doesn't _know_ himself.

Well, that's only a half truth. He does know that Morgana is somehow involved.

But how could that be possible? Morgana is dead, she died by Excalibur, a sword branded in Dragon's breath.

 _'no mortal blade can kill me.'_

The long ago words spoken by the witch raced through his head. It's been forever since he actually stopped and pondered the words. No 'mortal' blade? What could she have meant by that? Was she implying that she _wasn't_ mortal? Could that be the reason that she is literally attempting to force her way out from the land of the dead? Because she _isn't_ mortal?

He shook his head at the terrifying thought and tried to forget about it.

He shouldn't be dwelling on thoughts of the past. What he should be doing is thinking about more pressing matters like the present.

He had narrowed down a small group of possible ways that Voldemort could have achieved immortality, and none of them are pretty.

Each and every one required a sacrifice. Whether it was money, a precious item, or even another human life, it was a sacrifice all the same.

He found himself discovering that the human sacrifices were the most possible in Voldemort's case. After all, to give a life one must be taken. The Old Religion cannot interfere with the techniques because it doesn't technically break any of the unavoidable rules.

But he hated to think that that is what Voldemort has done. He thought back on the days of Herpo The Foul with a shudder. He desperately wished that Voldemort wasn't recreating the most evil of practices of over a thousand years ago.

The practice of creating a Horcrux.

* * *

 _Harry_

To say Harry's week has been normal would be a lie. Everything was busy, and everything was hard.

Most the school had forgotten about Katie and was now concerning itself with many other matters.

Harry personally found his mind occupied with the thoughts of the latest lesson he has been given by Dumbledore.

Ron had asked him why Dumbledore would be showing him these memories, and Harry was starting to wonder that himself. Why would Harry need to know that Voldemort's Mother ran away from home after her father and brother was sent to Azkaban? Why would he need to know that Tom Riddle grew up in the Orphanage? He doesn't see how this information could help him defeat the Dark Lord in any way. Or, unless Voldemort himself didn't know these memories and he could use them as a distraction somehow?

He shrugged. There was no point than dwelling on it. Dumbledore only tells him what he wants to tell him and leaves it at that. ' _even though he promised to tell me everything,_ ' he said thought bitterly.

Well, according to Hermione: "I think it's fascinating. It makes absolute sense to know as much about Voldemort as possible. How else will you find out his weakness?"

Harry wasn't sure if Voldemort's weekness could be his creepy childhood but oh well. He has more pressing matters.

Like: the Slug Club Christmas party. Slughorn has persistently tried throughout the whole year to make Harry attend one of the useless meetings. Even though Hermione insists that they're not as bad as he thinks, he still didn't find it appealing to be reminded of his dead parents every week. There was also the problem of McLaggen who still had a grudge against Harry for not letting him play keeper, and his nasty temper didn't make up for it either. So Harry always conveniently placed Quidditch practices whenever Slughorn asked him to attend a meeting so he would have an excuse not to go.

But Slughorn had finally cornered him. He had asked Hermione about Harry's schedule and now found a day Harry couldn't say no to. Christmas. So now he was forced to go to a stupid party and he was tasked with finding a guest.

The first thought in his head was Ginny, but then he remembered that she was dating Dean and she was Ron's sister, it would be weird to ask her out. But without Ginny, Harry suddenly found himself clueless of who to bring.

Well, he couldn't keep worrying about the inedible, Christmas was still a while away and he had an event to think about, an event so close that it was the day _of_ it.

The day of the opening Quidditch match.

He hoped that his plan would work. He really couldn't have Ron failing the team, especially when they're playing (fighting) against Slytherin.

He walked into the Great Hall with Ron. Hermione was nowhere to be seen because of a little argument Ron and her had had that he, unsurprisingly, started. His best friend was green and sickly looking. At first glance anyone would think he was walking to his death, and knowing Ron, that's probably how he felt.

"Come on, Ron," Harry said sitting down at the usual spot at the table. "At least the weather is clear."

"Yeah, clear enough for everyone to watch me fail miserably."

Ginny snorted from across the table while she ate next to Dean and Seamus. Ron shot her a glare and she shot one back that was worthy of McGonagall as she grabbed Dean's (who was the replacement Chaser for Katie since she hasn't been let out of Mungo's yet) hand looking defiant. The siblings had also been in a fight, and, also unsurprisingly, it was Ron who started it as well.

"Hey Ron, you want Tea?" Harry cut in asking. "Coffee? Pumpkin juice?"

Ron tore his glare away from his younger sister and the grabbed a piece of toast. "Anything," he replied glumly, taking a moody bite out of his toast.

A few minutes later Hermione strided with the confidence she had an endless supply of into the Great Hall. It looked as if she had fully wanted to just ignore Ron and Harry like she has done the past few days, but it seemed her good conscious has gotten to her and she sighed as she walked over to her two friends.

"How are you both feeling?" She asked with a compassionate voice, staring at the back of Ron's head, looking unsure if she should really strike a conversation with him.

"Fine," said Harry as he was concentrating on handing Ron a glass of Pumpkin voice. "There you go, Ron. Drink up."

Ron raised the glass to his lips when Hermione suddenly spoke up.

"Don't drink that, Ron!"

Both boys looked up at her. Ron with confusion, Harry with the most innocent face he could put on, trying not to grin.

"Why not?" Asked Ron.

Hermione took a second to answer, because she was currently staring at Harry with a look of complete disbelief. "You just put something in that drink."

"Excuse me?" Harry asked, trying to look shocked that he would ever be accused of spiking his best friends drink.

"You heard me. I saw you. You just tipped something into Ron's drink. You've got the bottle in your hand right now!"

"I don't know what you're talking about," sighed Harry as he stuffed the little bottle hastily in his pocket.

"Ron, I warn you, don't drink it!"

Weather it was out of sheer spite or something else, to Hermione's utter horror, Ron grabbed his glass, made a fake cheers motion, then drained the cup in one gulp.

* * *

 _Merlin_

The match was on. Slytherin playing against Gryffindor and it was very intense. Merlin hardly knew who to cheer for as one was his own house, but was comprised of corrupt morals that Merlin hardly agreed with, while the other team was his rival, but was filled with kind hearted and promising kids.

As two versions of _Weasley is our King_ rung out in the air, Merlin found that it was the perfect opportunity to sneak around the castle. His nightmares of the veil has been getting worse and the Ghosts were starting to worry. Even Peeves was starting to feel something off. So he decided that he himself will put up some protection wards and check old ones that Dumbledore has put up.

As the Weasley boy blocked yet another Quaffle from getting through the middle hoop by doing an impossible spin, Merlin stalked through the crowd of excited Gryffindors then made his way towards the castle just as a roar sounded out from Luna Lovegood's ridiculous but extremely creative lion hat.

He strolled around the castle, enjoying the emptiness of the long corridors that are usually filled to the brim with students ready to learn. Every once in awhile a few students that didn't want to watch the match would come walking down the halls and Merlin would find himself wanting to jump behind the nearest suit of armor before realizing that he was a teacher, and that he was doing nothing wrong.

Yet.

The first wards he wanted to place were at the front gates, but he soon found that those were strong enough without his help, so he headed to the towers where if someone were powerful enough, they could just fly right in. He knew that Dumbledore was confident in his protection charms, but Merlin knew better. He knew that if Voldemort was anything like past power hungry foes he had seen in the past, he could easily break through the barriers of an old man.

The next thirty minutes passed and the east tower was fully protected by his magic. He placed the wards by simply flashing his golden eyes, he had already mastered shielding spells during the Crusades. He worried that he might have to place stronger spells, but when he saw that a measly Billywig struggling to even land on the edge of a windowsill, he decided it was good enough. His spells were meant for powerful wizards and witches with evil intent, not innocent little bugs, so when a bug is affected it's a sign that his ward's are just fine. (This is of course assuming that the bug isn't planning to murder anyone).

He skipped down the stairway with confidence. It's been forever since he's used magic of the Old Religion like this. He was always afraid to use it and never had too much of a reason to. He had, after all, magic he could use with a wand. He was surprised to learn that he could even use the wands, but when he held his Pear wood, Phoenix feather core wand for the first time he found that today's magic was simply an evolved version of the Old Religion, so he could use it easily even with the new Latin spells.

Well, even so the Old Religion was also very much more powerful compared to today's magic, but he had never had any excuses to use such powerful magic when he could simply wave a wand to avoid suspicion. The only times he had used his original magic was when it was on impulse or there simply wasn't a new magic spell to fit what he wanted to do.

The disappearing of a black robe behind a corner caught his attention as he walked.

He narrowed his eyes and sped walked towards the corner. Usually he would ignore something as innocent as a student making their way through the castle, but the corridor he was in was an especially unused part of the castle. Even during the Quidditch game he wouldn't know why someone besides him was sneaking around in a long empty corridor on the seventh floor.

Or at least what he thought was empty.

Just as he turned the corner to pursue whoever, besides himself, was sneaking around he saw the same robes vanish behind a large wooden double door. The door slammed shut with an echoing click and to Merlin's amazement, the door shrunk into a small door that was easy to overlook.

He strided over to the door and opened it, only to find a small closet with no one inside.

He grinned. It seemed Hogwarts was up to her old tricks and a student has found out about one of them. He wondered what this door lead to and how to open it, though he didn't have much time to before the sound of someone clearing his throat made him jump nearly out of his skin.

"Are the wards not up to your expectations, Mr Emrys?"

Merlin spun around and met face to face with the man, the myth, the legend, Albus Dumbledore.

"I- I didn't… I mean- um…" Merlin stuttered, unsure how to answer the man. Was he followed? How was that possible? He would have felt the presence.

As if guessing what Merlin was thinking, Dumbledore grinned with a spark in his eye. "Mr Emrys, I have mastered the practice of going invisible and hiding my presence decades ago."

Merlin looked shocked at the old man. Has he been followed the _whole_ time?! He knew he had a curtain knack for being caught when trying to sneak around, but this was a whole new level of uncaring!

Ignoring Merlin's expression, Dumbledore continued. "I have never seen magic performed the way you have done so, wandless and nonverbal to say the least. Not even I can hope to master magic on that level, it makes me wonder if giving you the position of History of Magic was really the right choice, after all you have all the qualifications of a Defence teacher. It also makes me wonder if you're really who you say you are, but oh well. There are many of us in Hogwarts with something to hide, myself included. I will not pry into your secrets unless you feel comfortable enough for me to do so, though I will tell you now, I think we can both be of use to each other. Now, I think I must go. The match is almost over and I think Gryffindor will have yet another win since young Harry Potter first came to school."

Then without another word, Dumbledore clapped Merlin on the back and left him staring stupidly in the corridor.

* * *

 **AN: Yay!**


	9. Chapter 9: Christmas Party Conversations

**Disclaimer: me no own, me only like.**

* * *

 _Harry_

To say it was blizzarding would have been an understatement. Snowflakes the size of marshmallows fell from the heavens in winds strong enough to knock an elephant off it's feet. Though, even an elephant would have enough sense so stay indoors in the weather.

The world was white, nothing else shown. The usually leafless and dead looking trees were plastered with sticky snow, the grass and paths on the ground was under so much snow that no one bothered to go out and check how deep it was anyways. The outer walls of Hogwarts, usually tall, stone, and always showing, was covered in a white out so fierce that no one could see more than a few feet ahead of them even if they tried.

The weather was ruthless and spared nothing from its rage. It blew open windows and sent papers scattering around the classroom like frightened birds, it knocked over trees then proceeded to bury it, never to be seen again until spring showed it's shy face. Students who had to walk through open corridors to get to their next class were usually shivering and soaked before they got through the short way they raced across, teachers were on standby to charm cloaks to be water proof and a bit more warmer, though that didn't stop the chill from biting it's way through.

Harry was just glad that Herbology was inside the castle until better weather, he didn't think he'd live through the walk towards the usual spot for the class.

Wind howled and screamed and was heard even in the Great Hall where Harry found himself presently. As he sipped on a cup of hot chocolate (complemented with pumpkin spice flavoring) he found his eyes traveling the room. Hagrid had somehow braved the storm and brought up 12 Christmas trees and was setting them up at the moment, his beard was frozen and his whole body was soaked because he just came in from carrying the last tree. McGonagall fretted over the mess he was making and insisted to help warm and dry Hagrid up, but she earned a: "No thanks, Minerva, I have been a lot colder than this before." So she made the classic face that made her lips ten times thinner and she stalked off towards the head table as Hagrid sloshed around putting decorations on the trees.

Dumbledore was nowhere to be seen, but that was nothing new.

What was new was that Emrys was gone as well and Harry couldn't help but wonder why, he's been avoiding eating in the Hall recently and stuck to being alone in his office most of the day, doing some type of research that no one knows what with bags under his eyes.

"Maybe he doesn't like winter?" Harry overheard Seamus talking to Dean and Ginny one night in the dorms.

"I heard he's some kind of Snow Demon, and he's transforming into his demon self because of all the blizzards we've been getting," Dean said with a mystical voice.

Ginny rolled her eyes. "That's the dumbest thing I ever heard."

"It could be true! What if he's isolating himself so he doesn't completely transform then eat us all?"

After hearing the conversation Harry rolled his eyes then went off to bed.

Other rumors have been floating around, some more absurd than others (though it ware rare to be _as_ absurd as Dean's guess). Most included that Emrys plotting something evil and that he's a spy sent in from You-know-who. Those rumors angered Harry to no extent. During his years at Hogwarts, if there's one thing he has learned, it's that human beings are so quick to assume the worst in people. Didn't matter if they were Muggle, Magic, Werewolf, Vampire, Centaur, and so on, all they see in others is ugly difference.

A body throwing itself onto the spot next to Harry interrupted his thoughts.

Ron, barely even acknowledging Harry's presence dug hungrily into his breakfast. His hair was a mess and his tie was slightly undone, and to complete the look, lipstick made the shape of delicate lips beneath his dazed and far-off eyes. It wasn't hard to guess what he had just finished doing.

And speak of the devil, here comes Lavender Brown.

Ever since the win against Slytherin Lavender and Ron had practically been connected by the lips. Every where Harry went he found the two thing their hands locked in each other hair (though it looks more like _tangled_ in each others hair). It had come to the point in which it was difficult to tell whose hand was whose and if he should be concerned or not.

Hermione on the other hand was defiantly concerned about the relationship, though she would rather jump off the Astronomy Tower than admit it. The only time Harry's two best friends were ever in the same area was during classes or passing in the halls or Common Rooms. It became increasingly difficult to keep a steady friendship with the two because Ron's schedule consisted of: make out, eat, snog in a closet, eat lunch, whisper sweet nothing's while snogging some more, eat a lot, snog one more time, bed. Wherever Ron went, Lavender came with, it was very difficult for Harry. Hermione on the other hand was usually just _missing._ Right after class shed stalk off to who knows where to do who knows what. Harry occasionally found her in the Library with her nose stuck in a book, those times Harry made sure to spend some time with her, but she would usually act like she wasn't there at all.

Once again Harry found himself caught in the middle of two friends who should stop being mad at eachother and make up.

Before Lavander could slither her way between Ron and Harry, the Boy Who Lived quickly scooted to make room for her. There was no fighting the relationship, so he didn't try.

He quickly scarfed down the rest of his meal then made his way to his first class.

* * *

The next day started off with Ron and Lavender snogging so much that Harry wasn't sure if his stomach ache was from seeing them or the dreaded event coming up the next day.

Slughorn's party.

He had almost forgotten about it but when Hermione once again went out of her way to remind him, it cursed him of not being able to even get the thought out of his head at all.

Next thing he knew he asked Luna Lovegood to come with him.

Well, she was a better choice compared to the army of girls trying to put Harry under a love potion… despite her… _flaws_ …

After the accidental event of which resulted in Harry having a date, Harry soon found himself waking up to the next day with a groan. He half wished that a meteor would come out of nowhere and end his misery. He spent the rest of the day grudgingly going through it. Before he knew it he was dressed in a suit and was walking a rater sparkling (literally) Luna towards Slughorn's office. Her dress was to say simply… wild. But it was better than usual. Normally Luna would be wearing her Radish earrings or something as ridiculous.

Holding her arm in his, he took a deep breath, and then made his way into the party.

He barely had any time to take in his surroundings, much less _breath_ before he was attacked by the presence of Slughorn himself dressed nicely in party attire.

"Harry, m'boy!" He said making his way over to the recently arrived couple. "Come in, come in, so many people I'd like you to meet!"

Harry was dragged over when Slughorn put a hand on his arm. He soon found himself face to face with a short and pudgy man Harry had never seen before.

"Harry, I'd like you to meet Eldred Worple, an old student of mine, author of _Blood Brothers: My Life Among the Vampires -_ and, of course, his friend Sanguini."

As Worple grabbed Harry's hand and shook it enthusiastically, Harry suddenly remembered that it was rumored that a Vampire would be present at the party. Said Vampire, Sanguini, was presently trying his best to ignore the girls trying to catch his attention, and was failing horribly at it.

A flash of brown hair caught his attention just as Worple started to practically beg for Harry to allow him to write his life story (which he found strange because he was only 16, not much of a life to write about yet).

"Excuse me Mr. Worple… but I just saw… er… a friend." Before Worple could do anything, Harry grabbed Luna's hand and dragged her over to where he had just saw Hermione disappeared.

"Hermione! _Hermione!"_

Hermione's head poked around a corner. "Harry! There you are, thank goodness! Hi, Luna!"

Harry's eyes traveled up and down his friend. She looked like she just escaped a pit of Devil's Snare. Her curly hair was more frizzy than normal and the sleeve of her dress was slowly making it's way down her shoulder, and the wild look in her eyes complimented the look. He began to wonder if it was a good idea to meet Hermione at all.

"What's happened to you?" He asked as Luna gave a tiny wave.

"Oh, I've just escaped - I mean, I've just left Cormac," she said. Harry gave her a questioning look so she quickly added, "Under the Mistletoe."

So she really did go with McLaggen. Harry was almost convinced she was joking when she announced she would. He still thought she was joking just to anger Ron till this moment. "It serves you right for coming with him," he said, trying to put as much disappointment into his voice as possible.

"I thought he'd annoy Ron most," Hernione said, attempting to untangle her hair. "I debated for a while about Zacharias Smith, but I thought, on the whole -"

" _You considered Smith?_ " Harry said, revolted.

Hermione's hands dropped from her hair, deeming the mess a hopeless case. "Yes, I did, and I'm starting to wish I'd chosen him, McLaggen makes Grawp look like a gentlemen." Ending the subject, she pointed over to the other side of the room. "Let's go this way, we'll be able to see him coming, he's so tall…"

It was at that moment that something caught Harry's eye. As someone walked into the room Harry noticed a disheveled looking Headless Nick walking in a brisk pace with the Bloody Baron, Grey Lady, and the Fat Friar. They all looked worried and all looked like they've seen a ghost… or… ironic isn't it?

"Hey, you two go over there, I'll catch up," he said. Before either girls could ask his what he was doing, he quickly turned and made for the door.

He avoided Slughorn and then snuck out of the door. After checking the hallway and finding himself alone, he pulled out his invisibility cloak and slipped it over him. After scanning the hallway one more time, he raced off to follow the Ghosts.

"I don't understand, why would he know what is happening?" Nick asked stopping in the middle of the hallway looking both angry and confused. Harry, surprised by the sudden stop, ducked behind a suit of armor.

"You don't know him as we do, Nick," Baron growled, turning to face his fellow ghost. "You're one of the newest ghosts here, but surely you should already know he's connected to it almost the same way we are."

"Connected to what? That Veil you mean?" Nick asked.

The Grey Lady slammed her palm to her head. "Hopeless," she growled.

Baron growled something resembling: "typical Gryffindor…" before continuing. "Look, we can trust him. He was friends with the founders themselves."

"Impossible! No one can live that long without the Philosopher's stone!" Nick said in an almost outrage. "And that was destroyed by Dumbledore himself."

"We can't explain it in the short amount of time we have, Nick." Frier said calmly. "But we can trust him, after all Dumbledore had let him teach the school, and Dumbledore trusts him, so we can too."

Nick looked like he was going to say something stupid so the Grey Lady cut in. "Look, we know nothing of his real identity, we're just as confused as you. But we must face the facts. Something is breaking through the Veil, and he may know what it is and what it's happening. We have to go and find out more."

"I've never been this exhausted before, even when I was alive," Frier added. "Surely you must feel just as… stretched as we do." When Nick didn't answer, he continued. "And surely you must have noticed the strange weather! It's not just Hogwarts getting this white out mess, most of the world is getting strange and extreme weather. It's like the world is trying to tear itself apart, and we all know what's causing it."

"The Tear…" whispered Nick.

"You see why we must go to him?" The Grey Lady asked. "He's just as connected to it as we are, maybe more. So far he has refused to tell us anything, but maybe if all four of us ask he'll tell us something, please come."

Nick looked defeated. After a sigh, he looked into her permanently sad eyes. "Okay…"

Frier laughed and clapped his friend on the back, the Grey Lady smiled sweetly, and the Baron rolled his eyes. After a few more words all four Ghosts made their way down the hall and Harry realized he was still behind the suit of armor.

He slowly emerged into the middle of the hall - still in his cloak - and stared blankly at the wall as many thoughts raced through his head.

Who were they talking about? A teacher that was around since the founders? That sounded impossible despite that Baron said that he knew the man since then. And what was happening to the Veil? How was it connected to the weather? He didn't like the sound of 'the Tear' which only made more questions bubble into his mind.

He barely had time to ponder the new information before he heard rushed footsteps and angry voices make themselves known behind him.

He spun around and saw Snape in deep conversation with Malfoy. Pushing the Ghosts conversation to the back of his mind, he hurried over towards the two Slytherins intrigued by their topic of conversation.

* * *

 _Merlin_

He sat at his desk with his head in his hands. As much as he wanted to deny it he found it was true. No matter how many times he tried to prove it wrong, it insisted on being right.

And it was terrifying.

Horcruxes. The most vile and cowardly way of creating immortality. To create them one must split up their very soul by doing the most unforgivable act of killing another human being. They then will store their soul into an item or person and create an anchor to the living world, and lived until their soul had been completely destroyed.

A face flashed in his mind and he cringed away from it. More faces appeared and all of them screamed at him and pleaded at him, begging for mercy. He vigorously shook his head and banished the images. He wasn't going to lie. _He_ has killed before. He had killed many people in cold blood and there isn't one loss of life that doesn't weigh on his heart constantly. People he had to kill to protect Arthur, people he had murdered in war, even more who have tried to attack him. He has killed, but it was a different kind.

Voldemort killed for his own gain and selfishness, Merlin killed to protect himself and all those he held dear to him.

Even though he told himself this, it didn't get rid of the guilt.

He eyed his book, frantic to escape his lonely mind. The mind was a dangerous place if left to itself, and he wouldn't let it. He has a job to do, and that is to find out all that he can about Voldemort, then help Harry defeat him.

He glanced at the clock, and almost groaned. It was getting extremely close to midnight and that was usually when the Veil would tear a bit more and then would cause agony to all those connected to it. That was another problem he had to figure out.

As if the thought of the Veil summoned them, he heard four familiar voices outside his door. He sighed and pushed himself up from his desk. He knew what they would ask and he hoped they knew what he would answer.

He still has no clue what was happening to the thin fabric that separated the world of the dead, from the living.

* * *

 **AN: Thanks for reading!**


	10. Chapter 10: Hermione and the Name

**Thank you to Talna for being a wonderful Beta reader!**

 **Disclaimer: You guys should know this...**

* * *

 _Merlin_

Merlin awoke the next morning with a headache (which he blamed a certain group of ghosts for creating). They were more persistent than usual and wouldn't leave until he resorted to threatening to jinx them.

He hated keeping his ghostly friends in the dark, but he had convinced himself that it was probably for the best that he did so. He didn't want to worry anyone other than himself with the thought of the most powerful and evil sorceress of the past returning. He could handle her and send her back to wherever she went after she died - he was sure that she definitely didn't go to the same heaven as Freya - then ensure that she couldn't come back.

He groaned and pushed himself out from under the covers of his bed. It was the first day of Christmas break and most students should be getting ready to go back to their homes by now. He was honestly very glad that it was a school break. Teaching was a stressful job already, so when burdened with the thoughts of Veils tearing, Horcruxes being made, and whatever the heck Dumbledore had up his star patterned sleeves had gotten rid of any emotions that weren't fear, anxiety, and stress. A whole lot of stress.

He planned to use this break to its full potential. Hopefully he'd manage to figure out the mystery of Morgana, as well as discern whether Voldemort really was creating Horcruxes.

He smiled sadly. One would think that he would be able to just snap his fingers and then _wham!_ no more Voldemort. After all, he was the most powerful sorcerer to ever exist, right? He could block the killing curse, he had survived multiple executions in the past, he had controlled the weather and shaped oceans, he had done so many incredibly powerful things that not even Morgana could hope to achieve. A small wizard who is forced to use a stick to cast their spells shouldn't be a problem, right?

If only. Throughout Merlin's thousand years of being alive, he had begun to notice some things about his ability to use the Old Religion, and one thing he had realized was that it was not all powerful, albeit certainly stronger than today's source of magic, it still had its flaws. One of those flaws being that it was literally connected to the earth. His magic was stronger in rural and uncivilized places compared to a bustling city, but even if he went to Antarctica or the middle of a Brazilian jungle, his powers simply couldn't compare to what they used to be.

The earth was hurting. Humans were becoming more industrial, which was resulting in more smog in the sky, more cities, more people, more land torn apart, and more unnatural illnesses. Global warming, oil spills in oceans, rising or falling water levels, endangered species, an over abundance of others, and so much more was a result of this. It hurt the Old Religion. It was like when someone gets sick, that person is still them, still eating, still working, but they're weaker because all of their energy is being taken up by trying to heal themselves instead of being put into doing other things.

Merlin knew the Old Religion was 'sick', and until it healed itself, he would be content with the less than powerful form it was currently taking. Of course.. he basically was the Old Religion. He did have the ability to disregard that his magic was sick and still use it to its full potential, but again, like a sick human, if it was over used and forced to do more than it was capable of, it would most certainly either get worse, or die.

Thinking of what the world was like today when it was just 'sick', he didn't want to imagine what it would be like if it got worse.

So he had resolved to use the Old Religion as little and as gently as possible until it got better. But because of this, he couldn't just go out and destroy Voldemort with a wave of his hands and a poof of smoke. What he had to do was do it the old fashioned way: shoulder work.

He had to go out and discern if Voldemort really did use Horcruxes, find them, destroy them, and then use a good old spell from a wand.

Speaking of Horcruxes, they would also be a huge problem concerning his original magic. They didn't exactly go against the laws of the Old Religion… if anything, they followed the rules in their own twisted way.

They were created by a man named of Herpo the Foul many centuries ago when the Old Religion was still accessible - if only slightly - to the common person (The Old Religion was still slightly available to be used by people all the way up until 839 A.D, unlike the common belief that it disappeared overnight). It was created by the unspeakable act of murder and splitting oneself's very soul. The soul could be placed in anything; a family heirloom, a weapon, a pet, a random rock, even another living person.

Once the soul was split and in its new container, it would literally chain the owner of the soul to the world of the living until all parts of the soul were destroyed.

That was the science and present understanding of it.

It was known that Horcruxes were hard to destroy, yet people didn't exactly ask why. Why were they so hard to destroy? The answer could only be found in the Old Religion.

The basic law of the old form of magic was this: something cannot be given unless something of equal value is taken. It was the rule of equivalent exchange. You couldn't create something from nothing, nor could you lose something without gaining something back. Think of it like baking, you can't make a magnificent cake with only a cup of cake batter.

Horcruxes, though abominable and so evil that it was almost a sin to even speak of them, followed the same rule. The person who created a Horcrux gained life and a close form of immortality by taking away another's life. It was a disgusting and terrible practice, but it followed the rules and it worked. A life taken for a life given.

Merlin shivered at the logic, he had lived a long time and he had enough experience of that law to know it was true. He almost lost many of his loved ones to that rule, he had saved Arthur when the questing beast injured him by it, he had also lost his good friend Lancelot by the same thing. He didn't need more convincing to know that concerning life, equivalent exchange was very relevant.

A slight knocking on his door brought Merlin out of his thoughts. He sighed and stood up to make his way over to whoever the source of the knock was after wrapping a bathrobe around his body. He tried his best to fix his hair and wipe the tiredness out of his eyes before opening the door.

What he found surprised him.

* * *

 _Harry, previously._

Memories of the night before swam somersaults around his exhausted head as Harry slept. Over and over both conversations between the four ghosts and the two people Harry disliked more than anyone (excluding Voldemort himself) replayed. Each time the two conversations replayed more questions arose and none got answered.

First question: what did the ghosts mean by the Veil?. He remembered, sadly, the night almost a year ago when his godfather died. He was struck by the killing curse then fell through something called 'the veil'. Harry honestly did not want to think of that night, it still hurt him to this day and was the source of many of his nightmares, but at the same time he couldn't shake the feeling that what Sirius Black fell through was somehow connected to the 'Veil' that the house ghosts were talking about.

Second question: who was the person the ghosts were going to for help? He already knew some information on this one. Dumbledore trusted them (which didn't really mean anything to Harry because Dumbledore also trusted Snape and Harry was convinced that Snape was completely bat crap psycho), they were a teacher (again, didn't mean a thing to Harry because the same bat crap psycho person was also a teacher), he was connected to the 'Veil' like the ghosts were… whatever that meant, he knew the founders (this fact Harry was still trying to comprehend, especially if the long life of this person wasn't caused by the Philosophers Stone), and the most curious thing of all, this person knew what was going on.

With these facts alone, he definitely couldn't find out who this person was without some serious detective work. All he knew about this guy was that he was a dude and a teacher. Nothing about what he looks like or what subject he teaches. This teacher could be Flitwick, Slughorn, Snape even, or for all he knew it could just be a random elective professor that taught about magical bugs or something. It literally could be anyone, and without more information other than gender and profession, Harry was stuck.

Third question: what was the 'Tear'? Going on basic knowledge of what a veil was - a barrier between the land of the living, and the land of the dead - Harry could guess that the 'Tear' was a word for something broken in the veil which allowed the living and the dead to pass through willy-nilly into both worlds. That thought alone made Harry shiver.

These were the three main questions Harry had concerning the conversation he conveniently overheard between the ghosts. Of course he had subquestions, more than he cared to list, but Harry had a hope that if he figured out the three main ones, the smaller ones would be answered along the way.

Now, concerning the conversation between Snape and Draco, he got more 'jumped to conclusions' than questions. One thing he knew for sure, was that Draco was most definitely a Death Eater, and there was nothing anyone could say to convince him otherwise. The way he acted during his words with Snape basically screamed "I'm a Death Eater and I'm doing a job for the Dark Lord", and the 'job' he was doing Harry could only conclude that he was either trying to find something in the school or he was trying to kill Dumbledore. Harry had the feeling that both were correct.  
Another conclusion, was that Snape was most certainly a Death Eater as well. After all, what decent person would practically beg to help on a job assigned by Voldemort?

One question Harry had was why in the world did Draco get the job and not Snape? Draco was 16 years old and still in school, Harry had to guess that he hadn't even been working a year in the service of Voldemort, while Snape was experienced, knowledgeable, and a long time supporter of Voldemort. Why would Voldemort choose to give this important job to a teenager? Harry could only infer.

One last conclusion was that Draco was involved with Katie Bell's accident at Hogsmeade, and Snape knew about it.

Before he could think more into each individual detail of both mysteries he eavesdropped on, a soft hand shook his shoulder.

"Harry… Harry wake up," a voice said.

He groaned and attempted to wave the voice away like it was an annoying fly. He could bet that the voice belonged to Ron, and if it did… Ron had a terribly grumpy Harry to look forward to in the future.

The hand shook harder. "Oh for Merlin's sake, wake up!"

Wait. The voice definitely didn't belong to Ron… it was… feminine. Even though Ron acted like a girl didn't mean his voice sounded like one. The sudden image of Ron talking with a higher octave voice than what he did now made him chuckle.

"Harry James Potter, if you don't wake up now I will never let you copy my Transfiguration notes ever again."

Harry started awake. "H-Hermione!" he whispered/yelled at the sight of the girl beside his four-poster bed. The window he slept next to showed the sun just barely rising and a chorus of snores belonging to the other boys in the room proved just how early it was.

Hermione glared at his outburst and rolled her eyes. "Harry I really need a favor," she started as she ran her hand through her rat nest of bed-head hair. She looked like she had been left in a hurricane then put to tumble dry in the dryer. Her hair was ten times poofier than normal - which was saying something - and slight traces of makeup littered beneath her eyes. She was still dressed in her pajamas which were slightly disheveled and twisted like she had just barely rolled out of bed.

It took a bit to find his voice again, because honestly, her looks literally startled him into a somewhat speechless silence. "What do- what… Hermione why did you wake me up so early?!"

Harry was afraid that Hermione's eyes would fall out of her head at the intensity that she rolled them. "I just said, I need a favor." When Harry just gaped at her she decided to continue before he could ask something again in his stupid morning mindset. "Look, I woke up this morning ready to pack up (she ignored Harry's "You woke up this early just for _that_?!"), and I noticed I left my bag in Charms yesterday… so when I went to the classroom to find Professor Flitwick, I found that he wasn't there and the classroom was locked," she explained.

"What do you need me for then?" Harry asked.

"I need to borrow the Marauders Map to find Flitwick so I can ask him where my bag is."

Harry stared at her and she stared back.

"C- can't you just ask a teacher or someone to unlock the door?" he asked, surprised that Hermione would try to get the map instead of simply asking for an adult's help.

Hermione glared, which made Harry think she looked like a bear that had just awoken from hibernation when combined with her physical appearance. "Do you think I haven't already tried that? Nearly Headless Nick was walking… floating by and I asked him to see if my bag was in the classroom. He came back and told me that my bag wasn't in there. I asked him if he knew where Professor Flitwick was, and he said he didn't know. I decided to ask you for the map instead of going on a wild goose chase. Does that explain it?"

Harry sighed. "Okay, okay… I'll let you use the map. Just one last thing though," he said, trying not to flinch away from the annoyed stare down Hermione was giving him, "Why do you need your bag so much? Can't you just wait till the break is over?"

"Harry, I have homework in there!"

He should have known

Without another word he slid off his bed and sluggishly made his way towards his trunk. He opened it and started to look through it for the yellowing parchment that Fred and George had given him in his third year. "Aha," he said when he found it buried at the bottom of his trunk. He carefully pulled it out and handed it to Hermione.

"Thanks," she mumbled as she opened the map up. "I solemnly swear that I'm up to no good," she said with a sigh.

Harry sat down on his bed and waited for her to be done. He let his eyes wonder around the room before they snapped back to his friend when she let out a startled gasp.

She stared at the map with a mixture of horror and surprise, and the look only served to make Harry suddenly very anxious. "Hermione… what's up?"

She jumped at the sound of his voice and her gaze flickered between him and the map. "I- I… I'll be right back."

Before Harry could do anything, Hermione shot out of the room faster than a jackrabbit being chased by a fox.

"What in the world happened to her?" mumbled Ron from his bed sounding extremely sleepy. His face twisted into one of confusion. "Oh wait, I'm mad at her…"

Harry rolled his eyes.

* * *

 _Hermione_

She sprinted out of the Gryffindor tower (startling the Fat Lady half to death in the process), and made her way through the long corridors still holding the Marauders Map.

It just wasn't possible! How could something like this even happen? She glanced at the name again that was still in their bedroom, and cursed out loud, earning a gasp from a nearby picture of an old woman holding two cats.

The map never lied, and it was never wrong. It didn't mater what a person went by or who they were disguised as, it still showed the true name of the person no matter what. And the name that was being shown to her forced billions of questions to form in her head.

She stopped suddenly and panted to catch her breath. She looked one more time at the map and eyed the name. She then looked up at the door which the name was coming from. She mustered up all the courage she had and knocked on the door.

Which was opened a few seconds later by a black haired man wrapped in a bathrobe.

* * *

 **Thank you for reading! Make sure to review!**


	11. Chapter 11: Target One and Target Two

**AN: I'm back! In two weeks! Yay!**

 **THANK YOU TO MY BETA** **nocturnal-elia WHO MADE THIS CHAPTER AWESOME**

 **Disclaimer: If I owned Harry Potter and Merlin, many things would change.**

* * *

 _Hermione_

All courage she summoned a few seconds earlier suddenly vanished as she stared at her History of Magic teacher, wrapped in a bathrobe with an expression of complete confusion. It was that moment she remembered what she looked like.

Before he could even say anything she quickly walked away with her arms folded around herself. "Sorry Professor.. wrong door…" she murmured, as she silently wished that the floor would open up and engulf her.

What was she thinking?! It could be a complete coincidence that Professor Emrys was going by a name that's not his own… and that his real name just happened to be the exact same of a certain historical figure. It was still strange though! Why was Professor Emrys… no… _Merlin Ambrosius_ going by a name not his own? Every person she had met in Hogwarts that went by an untrue identity usually had evil intent, but she got a feeling that Emrys was not like that.

Maybe his real name catches too much attention, so he goes by something else?

It certainly caught her attention, and she, much to her own disappointment in herself, acted upon impulse when the map revealed his name to her. Maybe that was something he wanted to avoid; he wanted to avoid unwanted attention.

Even though, if he was the real Merlin it would certainly explain a whole lot. She didn't know why but Emrys seemed so very odd to her. She didn't know if it was the look in his eyes that told of hundreds of years, or the way he appeared to know much more than he let on.

Her eyes traveled to the map she realized she was still holding. Her professors true name was moving around his bedroom, like he was getting ready for the day. More names started to appear in the hallways and she suddenly wished she also asked for Harry's invisibility cloak as well. She already had to deal with Ro- _that red headed jerk_ calling her ugly, she didn't need the whole school to see her when she looked like she just escaped from a zoo.

Unfortunately, just before she could dart back to the Gryffindor common rooms, a name she didn't notice before made itself known.

"Well, it looks like the Mudblood finally shows it's true form," came the voice of the one and only Draco Malfoy.

* * *

 _Merlin_

He watched the figure of his smartest student retreat down the long corridor with his eyebrows raised.

Well, that was weird.

He shrugged and shut his chamber doors, then proceeded to get ready for the day, pushing the odd occurrence Miss Granger presented him with to the back of his mind. Once he was dressed in red turtleneck sweater, blue jeans, black dress shoes, completed with a knitted blue scarf (he never really got out of his color scheme, which is surprising because it has literally been almost two millennia), he opened his windows and looked out at the rising sun over the Scottish mountains. Snow was gently falling and actual blue sky could be seen through broken clouds in the sky. The sight was beautiful, but it only served to raise his anxiety levels.

The weather had been extreme for more than a good few months, and not just for Hogwarts, but for the whole _world_.

All of the northern hemisphere was practically buried in snow. North America was struggling with keeping their roads clean and industries working properly, cities were being evacuated because they were being met with blizzards and high winds that threatened to blow over _houses_. Europe had never seen so much snow, in fact, a lot of the southern countries never before had to deal with more than a few inches of snow in December, so feet of snow was defiantly causing problems for many. Russia, who was already used to large amounts of snow, was actually having snow days from school. That, _is saying something_.

The other half of the world which was currently in their summer were struggling just the same, but in a different way.

The north America's were so hot and humid that the moment anyone leaves their homes their drenched, stinky, and struggling to breath. Jungles were turning orange and smog didn't ever leave the sky because of the lack of wind. Africa was struggling with famine and extreme heat, so much so that no one would be caught dead outside, especially during the day. Asia, usually beautiful and covered in green most everywhere you went, was now so dry and brittle that the smallest breath threatened to blow it away. _Australia_ was getting such extreme heat that people are starting to wonder if it was possible to evacuate a whole country.

The weather wasn't the only thing threatening the world, but so was natural disasters. Never before had there been so many volcanic eruptions, earthquakes, tornados, tsunamis, and hurricanes.

It was a surprise that the world was still holding together in one piece.

That's why when Merlin looked at the rising sun and the gentle snow he got anxiety. The weather was _normal_ and _non threatening._

Merlin couldn't help but wonder if that was the calm before the _real_ storm.

He gulped and backed away from his window, then made his way towards his bedside table and grabbed his wand. He planned to go to Hogsmeade and snoop around the town in hopes to find out where Katie Bell got the Opal Necklace. If he couldn't find any clues to that mystery, it was still a promising and beautiful day, and he did not want to waste it.

He grabbed a brown jacket hanging on his bedpost and slipped it on before emerging out of his room.

He continued down the corridor and mentally decided to have breakfast at Hogsmeade instead of at Hogwarts. He could get more snooping around done if he left earlier after all.

He was just about to go through the castle doors when a familiar voice called out to him, making him stop in his tracks.

"Oh, going somewhere, Professor Emrys?" Dumbledore asked with a twinkle in his eye. "Care if I join you?"

* * *

 _Hermione_

She glared at the bleach-blond Slytherin before she started to speedily walk away. She didn't want to deal with his jerkiness and crap, and she definitely didn't want to deal with him when she looked as she did.

She was surprised when she heard him make an annoyed snort before he walked his separate way down the corridor.

Odd. Usually he'd try and follow her and make fun of her more, so why didn't he now?

Her eyebrows furrowed as she walked towards the common room, folding the map and sticking it in her pocket as she did so. So many things concerning Malfoy had been strange so far during her sixth year, well, besides the chance he could be working as a Death Eater. The first sign of his strangeness was that he hadn't played his position of Seeker once throughout the whole year. Draco was such a Quidditch nerd - like every boy she knew - that it was a shock to the whole school to find out that he made the excuse of being sick to not play.

There was also his appearance that concerned her. His used to be pale and fair skin was now ashy and sickly looking. He had bags under his eyes that suggested loss of sleep. Not only that, but he lost weight as well. His perfectly tailored robes that fit him to the T at the beginning of the year were now slightly too large. She wondered if he was eating properly. She wouldn't really know because she doesn't pay constant attention to the Slytherin table while she's eating her meals like Harry does.

But the most uncharacteristic thing about Draco was his complete and utter lack of desire to annoy, tease, bully, or even glare at the golden trio.

It was unnerving.

As she walked, the thoughts in her head raced and the weight of the Marauders Map in her pocket was impossible to ignore. It appeared that she had ran into a few mysteries and she was suddenly obsessed with finding them out. Who was Professor Emrys really? What was going on with Draco Malfoy?

Too bad she couldn't figure them out until the two week break was over.

She stopped in her tracks and stared ahead of her with a surprised expression. Maybe there _is_ a way to find out what was going on. Completely forgetting her previous mission to the Gryffindor Common rooms, she changed her destination and sped off towards it, not even caring when people gawked at her as she strided by.

* * *

 _Harry_

Harry decided it was high time to get up out of his feathery soft bed. As much as he didn't want to leave the comforting sheets and the fluffy pillow that put clouds to shame, he really needed to head back to the Burrow with Ron for his exciting break from his crazy life at Hogwarts.

After giving himself a pep talk into getting up, he worked on his last minute packing as the rest of the boys in the room started to do so as well. He closed his trunk with a sigh once all his items were all accounted for. Well, all items except his map.

He wondered what was taking Hermione so long to get it back to him. He bit his lip nervously at the thought of her accidentally ruining it, even though it was completely out of character for her to do so. The Marauders Map was one of the only things to remind him of his father and godfather, he definitely never wanted to see the day when he could no longer use it because it got lost or ruined in some unfortunate situation like that.

"What, did the carpet steal your candy, Harry?" Came Ron's voice from his own bed.

"Huh?" Harry said, snapping his head to look over at his best friend who had a smug look on his freckled covered face.

Ron stood up from his bed and started to pack away a few items he had hidden under the bed. "You just started to look at the floor really sad, I was worried it offended you somehow," he said with a smirk while playing with a fanged frisbee he pulled out before laying it carefully into his own chest of items.

"Har-har." Harry rolled his eyes. "I was just thinking. By the way, where'd you get that frisbee? I thought all Weasley's Wheezes were banned?"

Ron snorted. "The people who invented this were Fred and George, you know. It's not surprising they found a way to trick the Sneakoscopes."

"I guess that's true!" Harry laughed.

He remembered Hermione telling him about how Fred and George disguised their love potions as perfumes so girls could sneak them in via owl. When he asked her if it was possible if Draco could have disguised the Opal necklace she proceeded to tell him flat out that it was impossible to hide an object filled with so much evil as easy as that. Harry was absolutely sure that Malfoy was a Death Eater, yet even his closest friends defended the ferret! It was so obvious he was devious if not evil, but everyone insisted that Draco was innocent and not capable of being evil, that it was just a teenage rivalry. It frustrated him to no end.

He stood up and straightened his clothes. Well, whatever Draco was up to, he wouldn't have to worry about it for two full weeks. What he did need to worry about was getting his map back from a certain curly haired girl. After putting on Muggles' clothes and tying off some tennis shoes, he walked out of the Gryffindor tower with a new mission; he had to get his map back.

* * *

 _Hermione_

She walked out of Professor McGonagall's office with a skip in her step. Her head of house listened to Hermione's proposal and didn't ask any unnecessary questions, (She was even nice enough to ignore Hermione's appearance!) believing the girls reason was to just catch up on some homework. Professor McGonagall promised to send a letter to her parents explaining that Hermione made a last minute decision to stay at Hogwarts the duration of the two week break.

Hermione knew her parents would respect her decision to stay at school and get some 'extra studying' done. It wasn't like her family had plans other than to eat a humble dinner on Christmas day. Her parents were dentists after all, and holidays like Christmas and New Years were unsurprisingly a busy time for their occupation. If she went back home, she'd be stuck in her house alone all day while she worried about what was going on with professor Emrys and Draco while she was away.

She smiled at how extremely fortunate she was to find out Draco was staying during the holiday too. It was a given that the professors were staying as well. So, it would be easy to keep up on both her targets if she stayed put also.

She didn't even realize she still looked like she fell into a ditch until she practically danced back into the Gryffindor common rooms. People stared at her, but she was just too giddy to have the luck of things actually working out to really pay any notice to it.

She hummed as she climbed up to the girls dorms, already forming a plan in her head of how exactly she was going to get the information she wanted out of Professor Emrys and Draco by the end of the break.

The first part of her plan was to, of course, get dressed.

* * *

 **AN: Hope you guys liked that chapter, I sure liked writing it! Did I surprise you guys with Hermione's reaction? I sure hope I did! Look forward to the next chapter!**


	12. Chapter 12: Mr Ambrosius and Morgana

**Prepare your selves, this one is a long one.**

 **Disclaimer: I don't know how to break it to you, but JK Rowling and BBC own these two masterpieces.**

* * *

 _Previously_

 _"Oh, going somewhere, Professor Emrys?" Dumbledore asked with a twinkle in his eye. "Mind if I join you?"_

* * *

 _Merlin_

Merlin spun around and stared at Dumbledore with his mouth open before quickly shutting it in an attempt to look inconspicuous. "What? Pft, no. I'm not going anywhere," he said waving his hand like he was brushing or pushing the question away.

Dumbledore raised a disbelieving eyebrow while Merlin cursed his unlucky ability to always be caught when he's sneaking. He always managed to find himself in situations like this one. No matter what he was doing or why he was sneaking he always seemed to get caught in the act. Searching a suspicious person's bed chambers? Oh look who just happened to walk in the door. Trying to take an extra doughnut from the kitchens? Here comes the cook. Attempting to listen in on a suspicious conversation? Oops, looks like he accidentally stepped on a twig that wasn't there before and now his position is given away.

Merlin, to this day, thought that the only person he had even successfully snuck around was Arthur, but he didn't count that as any kind of victory because Arthur was - hmm, how should he put this? Oh yeah: a dollop-head. There had been many instances when someone performed magic with Arthur literally staring right at them and the bloody prat somehow didn't notice. Because of that, Merlin was both surprised and concerned to find out that King Arthur was renowned as one of the most wise and just kings in history. Seriously, that clot-pole was probably the most oblivious person in the whole kingdom of Camelot.

Yet at the same time, Merlin was kind of proud to think that the man he risked his life multiple times for was considered a perfect political figure. Even though the legends were pretty screwed up and distorted, and Merlin failed in his destiny to make those legends a reality, they still never failed to make him puff out his chest with pride.

He was so caught up in his memories that he barely noticed when Dumbledore put his aged hand on Merlin's shoulder. "Don't be silly, Emrys. Let's head out and chat a bit. I'm sure we have much to tell each other."

Merlin's heart beat sped up as Dumbledore proceeded to steer him out of the castle gates. "Er- wait, Headmaster…" he tried to refuse. But Dumbledore simply shook his head and smiled.

"Mr. Ambrosius, like I said before, we have much to tell each other."

* * *

 _Hermione_

Hermione smirked as she walked towards the Great Hall for breakfast. She was already planning how to get her targets of interest alone and how to get the information she wanted out of them. She knew it would be a pain to get Malfoy alone, much less get him to _talk_ to her, so she decided to go after Merlin Ambrosius first. She decided it would be easy enough to just ask for some extra help in history and ask a few questions that would ultimately expose him. Sounded simple enough.

When she entered the Great Hall she was greeted with a surprise. There were a lot of people in there! Shouldn't most of the school be heading back to their homes by now? Why was most of the school still present?

She looked around the crowded hall and noticed Ron and Lavender eating bacon and hashbrowns together and she instinctively snorted, deciding to definitely sit somewhere else. She spotted Luna Lovegood and decided to head over to the Ravenclaw table to say hi.

"Luna!" She called, wearing a friendly smile as she walked over to the dreamy girl.

"Oh hello, Hermione," Luna said in her usual wistful voice. "Did you sleep well?"

"Yes, thank you." Hermione sat down next to the girl and the other Ravenclaws happily made room for her. Ever since Ron got together with Lavender, Hermione found herself talking more than ever with the Ravenclaw house, enjoying the company of similarly minded teenagers. She had made easy friends with a lot of them and become very close with most of them.

Luna launched into conversation about whether or not He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named was actually a teenage girl who resorted to the dark arts when her celebrity crush turned her down, while Hermione and the surrounding Ravenclaws slipped into the mindset called 'ignore her.'

"So why aren't you guys back home yet?" Hermione asked, groping for a handful of chocolates in a bowl placed in front of her.

A seventh year Ravenclaw boy by the name of Anderson Mervy swallowed a bite of an omelet and answered the question. "Well, you know how they planned to get us home by opening the Floo network?"

Hermione nodded and took a sip of orange juice.

"Well, apparently since the weather took a turn for the better they decided to let us take the express back after they fix and clear the tracks a bit. It was on the boards in the common rooms you know."

Hermione smiled nervously. "I was a bit busy this morning."

Before any more conversation could flow between Hermione and Anderson, Luna spoke up. "Dumbledore and Professor Emrys aren't here…"

Hermione looked up at the head table and scowled. Come to think of it, Dumbledore had recently been disappearing for days at a time. He came and went without explaining his reasons to anyone and expertly dodged questions pertaining as to why.

She shrugged, deciding that it was Harry's job to worry about Dumbledore.

Speaking of Harry…

"Oi! Hermione!"

She spun around in her chair and looked at the Great Hall entrance just as Harry stomped in with his hair messier than usual and his glasses crooked on his face flushed red. He looked like he had just finished running around the whole castle.

He stomped towards her (only going off track a second when a group of Hufflepuffs decided it was a good idea to stand in the middle of where people needed to walk). Once he reached her he pointed a finger right at her nose; Hermione went cross eyed for a moment before looking him straight in the eye with a confused expression.

"Do you know how long I've been looking for you?" He demanded.

Hermione glared at him. "I don't need to tell you everywhere I go, Harry."

He rolled his eyes. "Whatever. Do you have the Mau-" he stopped and eyed the Ravenclaws surrounding them who tried to look like they weren't listening in. "Do you have my map?" He asked, rewording his previous slip up.

Hermione slammed the palm of her hand on her forehead. "I forgot! It's in my pyjama pocket in my dorm…"

Harry looked at her in disbelief, and she understood why. It was a well known fact that whenever a boy tried to climb the stairs to the girls' dorms, the stairs would form into something resembling a slide and shoot them down. It was absolutely impossible for anyone other than a girl to get up there. He couldn't go up there to get it, so he'll need someone else to.

Harry seemed to recover from his shock. "Then go get it! McGonagall says that the express will be ready to go in thirty minutes."

Hermione stood up and made a move to head back out of the Great Hall, but then she thought that not having the map would make things difficult for her. With it she could check up on where people were without having to go there herself. Also, what if Harry saw Merlin Ambrosius' name? She doubted he'd act any differently than Hermione did; the only difference would be that he wouldn't stop to think that he was acting irrationally.

"Actually, Harry?" She asked, standing with one leg still between the bench and table.

"What?"

"Can I… keep the map for the break?"

Harry looked like he was going to explode for a minute; he took a deep breath, fixed his glasses and gave her a narrowed look. "Why? What would you need with it back at your place?"

Hermione moved herself so that she was completely out of the Ravenclaw table and she stood full height to look at him. She lowered her voice so that anyone listening in wouldn't hear. "Because, I'm actually staying during the break… and it may be useful if I have a question for a professor or something."

Harry opened his mouth to say flat out 'no', but was stopped when Hermione continued.

"Look," she said as she raised her voice, getting annoyed that Harry was being stubborn... as usual... "I swear I will look after it and I will do your Defence Against the Dark Arts homework Professor Snape assigned for the break if you let me keep it." She said, crossing her arms.

A Ravenclaw across the table looked scandalized by the mention that she'd do someone else's homework, but Harry looked thoughtful. She tried her best to give him puppy eyes and he sighed.

"Fine, but only if you do my homework and keep it safe," he said, his shoulders slumping in defeat.

Hermione smiled brightly and hugged him around the neck. "Oh, thank you, Harry!"

"Yeah, yeah, whatever."

At that moment Professor McGonagall stood up before the whole Hall and raised the tip of her wand to her throat. "All students returning home please prepare to leave in 15 minutes," she said, in her no-fooling-around voice.

Harry sighed. "Just remember Hermione, if I find one new tear in the map-"

"Oh, don't worry, Harry. When have I ever broke a promise?"

* * *

 _Merlin_

Merlin honestly didn't know how to react when Dumbledore called him by his real last name. He just kind of stood there while his mouth opening and closing like a fish.

Dumbledore flashed a grin. "Don't be like that, you must know by now that one cannot hide anything from this school."

Merlin ignored the sirens blaring in his head and tried his best to look innocent (what it really was, was him standing with his arms awkwardly crossed and his legs stepping back and forth, while wearing a grin with lips pressed together and his eyes too wide). "I honestly don't know what you are talking about, sir," he said.

Dumbledore winked at him and started to walk away from the castle grounds. "Come, Emrys!" He called behind him as he walked. "We will Apparate out of the castle boundaries, and then have a nice chat."

Merlin knew he shouldn't follow the mysterious old man. The way Dumbledore worked reminded him of Kilgharrah. Speaking in riddles, keeping many secrets, and having the ability to be completely unpredictable. Merlin knew that Kilgharrah died many centuries ago, so maybe Dumbledore was a human reincarnation of the Old Religion Dragon. In all honesty, Merlin wouldn't be surprised.

He found himself following Dumbledore whilst trying to look impassive, but he couldn't stop the mix of curiosity and fear that flashed on his face when Dumbledore slowed down for him to catch up. What if he was being led into a trap? How did he know Merlin's true name?

He shivered. Hopefully it was just the name he knew and not his identity.

When he found that they were out of the castle boundaries, Merlin got the sinking feeling that that was not the case. The old man definitely knew something.

"Why don't we head to the Hogs Head?" Dumbledore asked, stopping and shifting his feet for a better position to Apparate from. "Yes, that would be best, I would think," he answered himself.

Ten minutes later found Merlin and Dumbledore seated in a dark corner - which they had previously made safe from unwanted ears by their spells - of the queer bar no one in their right mind would go to. Merlin shifted awkwardly and tried his best to look anywhere but at the old man across from him who was wiping a suspicious looking stain on the table with hands shaking from age.

"So," Dumbledore said finally, making Merlin jump. "Which one of us should explain ourselves first?"

When Merlin didn't answer, Dumbledore's eyes flashed and he smiled. "I will assume that you would like me to go first," he said.

Merlin stared at the wise wizard. "Look, I honestly have no clue what you're talking about."

Dumbledore waved his hand as if he were shooing a fly. "Then I shall speak to you first," he said simply.

Merlin fought the urge to glare at the wizard. If he had been having the same conversation with anyone else, he would have said something sarcastic by now. He found he couldn't do that to Dumbledore; he was completely baffled by the man. He also got the feeling that no matter how many well planned out lies he told Dumbledore, the wizard wouldn't believe him. It appeared as if the wizard knew the whole truth even without Merlin confirming it.

"Before I begin," Dumbledore said, pushing his half moon spectacles up his nose a bit, "I would like to inform you that I'm telling you this because I trust you. If you betray me in any way, you will find yourself in a situation worse than death."

Merlin shivered. He got the feeling that even if the Old Religion was back to what it used to be, Dumbledore's threat would still hold true.

Then the old wizard started to speak. He spoke of a young Squib who fell in love with a muggle. He told of a young boy born of those two parents who grew up in an orphanage after his father broke his mother's spell, and the mother herself died during labour. Then he talked about the boy's school days. Throughout it all he maintained a wistful kind of expression.

Merlin, of course, already knew a lot about Tom Riddle from the conversation he had overheard Harry and his friends having. But he was glad to know that now he had the full story. So Dumbledore continued.

Before long he came to the part where Harry James Potter had been left on the doorstep of his aunt and uncle's house. A single tear slipped down his face after telling him of Lily's and James's deaths. For some reason it seemed that Dumbledore blamed himself for their deaths, but they quickly moved on through the life of Harry, so they didn't get to talk more about it. Merlin was surprised to hear about the prophecy concerning Harry and Voldemort, and he felt shivers travel down his spine at the phrase: 'for neither can live while the other survives.'

It was certainly a shock to hear that Sirius Black was never a bad guy, and that until the end of Harry's fifth year he had taken his job of Godfather seriously and with great love.

Dumbledore continued to talk, and Merlin continued to listen.

"I believe Voldemort has been using Horcruxes to achieve his immortality," Dumbledore said gravely.

Merlin nodded. "I believe so too, sir," he said, speaking for the first time.

Dumbledore gave him a badly hidden smirk. "Oh? And how would you know?"

Merlin smiled back. "You've trusted me with all this even though I've only been teaching for a short time… I guess it's only fair I tell you the truth as well." He laughed. "I know you already know this, but I'll say it anyway. My real name is Merlin Ambrosius, I am almost two thousand years old and I'm considered the most powerful sorcerer in history. Nice to meet you, sir."

Dumbledore laughed. "It seems I was right about your identity indeed."

Merlin rolled his eyes at how happy and relieved the old man looked. "How did you know?" He asked.

Dumbledore chuckled joyfully, resulting in his whole body gently shaking. "Mr. Ambrosius, there are more ways than the Marauders Map to tell the true identity of a person. All I had to do was search your school records. I was surprised to see one Myrddin Black and a few other files show up when I did. Every name had a connection to the historical figure 'Merlin', so it wasn't hard to connect the dots from there."

Merlin knew he should feel ashamed of how quickly he had been found out, but in all honesty he felt _relieved_. In his long years of living no one had ever found out his secret, and he had never told anyone. It wasn't like he felt he had to stay hidden or anything like that, he just wanted to wait until when the world absolutely needed him to make himself known to it.

The different versions of the Arthurian legends pissed him off, and he wanted nothing more than to tell the truth of that as well. There was never any reason to hide what really happened in Camelot all those centuries ago. He never planned for the past to get as warped as it had, he had just never found the chance to tell the real story. Now, while he looked at Dumbledore, he got the feeling the true story, for the first time, would finally reach the ears of someone other than his own.

His eyebrows came together. "Wait... I thought you said you wouldn't pry into my life?"

The old man smiled sadly. "Unfortunately Mr. Ambrosius, I find myself breaking many promises lately. What's to stop anyone from seeking a strange answer that could start an adventure? You are a mystery to me, and I simply wanted to know why. We all make mistakes, even wizened old men like us."

Merlin smiled. He knew the truth to those words and he couldn't convince himself to be angry at Dumbledore because of that. Even though his own life was a long one, one that he had learned much from, he had also made many mistakes. Age doesn't make a person less prone to failure, it just makes you more aware and appreciative of it. If anything, being older causes one to make more mistakes.

"I guess you want to hear how I ended up this old, huh?" Merlin asked, shifting in his chair into a position he thought would be more appropriate and comfortable for story telling.

Dumbledore smiled as his answer.

Merlin's heart started to pound. "Okay then, it all started, of course, when I was born. You see, I wasn't a normal child. No, I was born with a grand destiny to serve King Arthur and restore peace to Albion as a powerful Warlock."

* * *

 _Dumbledore_

The wizard listened to the tale and barely spoke a word. Even if he wanted to speak he wouldn't be able to, he was too engrossed in the story and too shocked to make a sound, afraid the smallest noise from his mouth would cause the warlock to cease and never speak again of the true legend of Arthur Pendragon and his manservant Merlin.

In the beginning he told of each character and event with a reverence and formality. But about half an hour into the sad tale of Merlin, 'Prince Arthur' slipped into 'prat', 'clotpole', and curiously enough, a word called 'dollop-head'. There was a sadness in his eyes each time he talked of Morgana, or King Uther, or the Druid boy named Mordred. Dumbledore thought to himself he'd very much enjoy the company of Gaius and he would love to meet Sir Lancelot who sounded like a very polite young man. He smiled each time Merlin told a happy story, and he offered a comforting hand for every less than joyful tale.

But all too soon, all happiness left Merlin's tone when he talked of the short years of 'King' Arthur. Merlin had to stop for ten minutes to let tears flow when he reached the final Battle of Camlann.

After the death of King Arthur, Merlin's story turned into one of intense loneliness, awaiting the day of his best friends return.

When all the important details had been shared, Merlin sat in silence for a bit. He smiled sadly and looked directly at Dumbledore with eyes so intense that the wizard almost had to look away. But as both powerful beings locked eyes with each other, Dumbledore noticed there was more to the intensity in those blue eyes. There was loneliness, loss, and pain, but there was also hope, wisdom, and thankfulness.

"Theres one more thing I need to tell you, sir," Merlin said, eyes shifting to look at the middle of the table. When Dumbledore said nothing, Merlin continued. "I don't know if this is possible but... Morgana... I think she's using Horcruxes to come back."

The wizard looked at the warlock in badly hidden surprise. "How can that be so?"

Merlin shifted in his seat like it was being gradually heated to an uncomfortable temperature. "Back then, before I killed her, she said something to me. She said ' _no mortal blade can kill me_ ' as if she had defeated death itself. But, when I used Excalibur, the sword branded in dragons breath, she died. After Arthur... after I left the Isle of the Blessed, her body was gone. I think what happened to her was similar to what happened to Voldemort. Her body was destroyed and she disappeared until her Horcrux could bring her back. Because of Excalibur, she must have been banished for a very long time with an extremely weakened soul, but I think she finally gained enough strength to return."

"That's a troubling thought indeed, and very probable. Herpo the Foul was only just the creator of the first _known_ Horcrux." Dumbledore leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms in front of him. "Do you have any inference as to what form her Horcrux takes?"

"She... had a dagger. One Arthur gave to her for her birthday. Even though she hated him and had powerful magic, she never got rid of it for some reason. That's the only idea I have."

"Well it's and idea anyways. Ideas are often the fuel for all great and exciting things after all."

* * *

After a few more discussions the two wizened old wizards left the bar and headed back to Hogwarts just as the sun started to sink, allowing the night to begin.

The nights had started to sneak up around six in the afternoon, and it didn't help that the current date was December 21st, meaning the shortest day and longest night of the year. So the moon eventually made Merlin and Dumbledore retreat and talk some more another day.

When they had finally reached the castle, they found it to be practically empty. Most students should already be back at their homes for the two week break, and any others who stayed behind would most likely be found in their beds, dreaming of what they'd do the next day and how they'd spend their Sunday.

As they walked through the silent halls of the castle, Merlin spoke up. "You mentioned earlier that there is more than one way to tell the true identity of a person," he started, his eyebrows coming together in concentration. "You mentioned something called the… Marauders Map was it?"

Dumbledore nodded, he had forgotten the map. His mind was so wrapped up in the recent discoveries of the day that he hardly could think of anything else. "The Marauders Map is a tool Mr Potter uses quite often. It shows the position and real name of anyone in the castle," he explained.

Merlin paled. "So he could look at that map and see my real name?"

The wizard nodded. "Yes he could. But I believe you have more than that to worry about. It looked as if Harry lent the map to Miss Granger this morning, which would explain why she ended up on your doorstep flustered." Before Merlin could ask anything, Dumbledore continued. "The paintings told me that Miss Granger ran to your room looking… untidy… with a large piece of parchment in her hands. I am afraid that the parchment could only be the map and she may start to think of you as suspicious."

Merlin looked ready to find Miss Granger right then and there to grab the map and burn it to smithereens. But then his shoulders relaxed and his expression softened. "Oh well, if she wishes to know about me then so be it," he said, surprising Dumbledore. "None of this was supposed to be a secret anyway, and Hermione is a smart and trustworthy girl… a good ally despite her age."

Dumbledore was about to make his agreement known, but then several things happened at once.

The first thing was that the time struck midnight, a nearby window shattered, and sudden rain not there before barged in, soaking anything in its path in seconds. Then, Merlin stopped in his tracks and blanched. He was terribly white and his mouth opened wide as well his eyes.

That was when the screaming started.

Dumbledore hardly knew how to react when Merlin fell to the floor and started to thrash about, only to stop a few moments that felt like hours later. Very suddenly, Merlin fell unconscious.

* * *

Merlin

He was numb. It was dark. He couldn't access any of his five senses.

But then, too suddenly, everything came crashing down on him. His whole body shrieked with pain, high pitched buzzing assaulted his ears, and bright light went through his tightly shut eyelids.

Then, everything calmed down and he found himself breathing.

"Merlin, it's time to get up, you know."

His eyes jolted open and he found himself no longer in Hogwarts, but in a place he could only describe as a void, filled with purple swirling mist and voices that whispered in the distance. The floor beneath him seemed to be missing, there was only the fog and the voices.

That was until he turned around and saw that he wasn't alone in the dark place.

She could only be described as beautiful. Her black hair was brushed straight, her blue eyes shined with mischief and love, her dress was white and embroidered with flowers.

"It's time, Merlin," she said with her lovely smile and perfect teeth.

Merlin almost forgot what Morgana looked like before she left the light.

But the vision soon disappeared when she walked towards him, she must have sensed his nostalgia and knew she had his guard down. Right as she stepped a foot away from him, her hair grew and tangled, her white dress turned black, spreading like an inky stain, her eyes flashed with revenge. The beautiful smiling angel from before was replaced with a smirking demon.

"I'm back," was what she whispered in his ear before he woke up in the infirmary with a scream on his lips.

* * *

 **How many cliffhangers can you guys be left with before you guys murder me?**


	13. Chapter 13: He Who Saves Her Is Pure

**I have a chappie for y'all nerds.**

 **But first: What do you guys prefer? DracoxHermione or RonxHermione. I'm fine with either of them really. Please tell me what you guys would like to see for Hermione's future romance (though there won't be too much romance anyway, but this decision will change some things for the future, just FWI).**

 **(** to clarify, Romance will NOT be a huge factor in this book. My main focus is on exploring what would happen if Merlin and Morgana joined the story, not to make one revolving around kisses and sweat nothing's. Yes, there will be an occasional kiss between couples but that's as far as I'm going.

Also, if you guys want Ron/Hermione, Draco will still form a pretty good relationship with Hermione much to the distress of Harry and Ron **).**

 **Thanks to Talna for editing this chapter!**

 **Disclaimer: I'm American, so I can't be JK Rowling or BBC. Sorry guys.**

 **One last thing, TWO HUNDRED FAVORITES?! AJFNEONFGFRU. Guys. You have no clue what that means to me.**

* * *

 _ **During Merlin's talk with the good ol' Dumbledore~**_

 _Hermione_

After everyone had returned to their homes for the break, Hermione found herself… bored. She didn't have anything to do except maybe pick up a book and read a bit. She knew she had homework she promised Harry she'd do for him, but she had too many things on her mind to even think about a 13" essay on what type of spell can counter the 'double goosebumps' jinx (it literally gives your goosebumps goosebumps).

No, she was way too busy thinking about what Professor Emrys and Malfoy were up to. The professor didn't even show up to breakfast in the Great Hall and his name wasn't showing up on the map, so she could only guess that he wasn't even on school grounds; Malfoy, on the other hand, was shut away in his dorms just… sitting there.

Hence she had absolutely nothing to do, and because of that, she found herself in the library reading the first book that had caught her eye (and that she hadn't read yet).

It was quiet where she sat reading, well, if you discount the loud banging that sounded every once in a while as Peeves dropped a bucket of water on passing students and professors.

It was when a hand gently shook her shoulder that Hermione realized that she had fallen asleep. When her groggy eyes opened to find her face stuffed in a book, she was quickly hustled out by Madam Pince.

"It's almost midnight!" the woman said, guiding Hermione, who was still having trouble keeping her eyes open, by the small of her back out of the library. "You're lucky I decided to check back here before locking the door, because if I didn't you'd be spending the night in here, and who knows what that dang poltergeist who's still hanging around would have done to you."

As if to prove her point, Peeves flew through the library door and grabbed Madam Pince's hat before he flew around the library singing 'London Bridge is Falling Down'.

Hermione quickly excused herself when she saw the librarian's face turn beet red.  
She yawned and strolled down the corridor in a daze. She supposed she should head to the Gryffindor Common Rooms, but then she remembered the whole reason she grabbed the Marauders Map from Harry that morning in the first place. "Maybe Professor Flitwick is still awake?" She mumbled to herself.

The Charms classroom was on the way to the Gryffindor tower, so there wasn't much harm in checking in to see if her bag was there.

However, all plans of heading towards her Charms Professor were immediately forgotten as the clock struck midnight and all the windows in sight burst into hundreds of tiny jagged pieces that flew all over the floor. Hermione screamed and used her arm to cover her face from the glass to avoid being cut. Lightning flashed and rain burst through the broken windows. The chaos lasted only a second, and as suddenly as the storm had come, it went. Hermione found herself lying on the tiled floor of the corridor covering her face to the best of her abilities while her heart raced and the few scrapes she had received from the glass let red drops fall down her fair skin.

She brought herself into the fetal position and stayed still, gasping. She felt wet and sticky, and her new cuts stung, but she couldn't bring herself to move. Through all her physical discomforts, there was something else creeping into her heart. Pure terror and dread. She had no idea what caused it but she soon found herself shaking with tears streaming down her face.

She felt herself slipping and struggling to breathe. Black crept into the corner of her eyesight and her ears felt like someone had stuffed cotton in them. She knew she was panicking, but she also knew she couldn't stop it. The feeling clawing at her heart only continued to grow and she felt trapped. It was when she heard the echo of frantic footsteps heading towards her that she finally let the darkness take her.

* * *

 _ **Minutes Prior~**_

 _Draco_

Draco Malfoy was what one would call frustrated. With both Snape and the Dark Lord constantly breathing down his neck, he hardly had any time to relax at all. Every minute- every _second_ was spent trying to figure out how to fix that stupid vanishing cabinet in the Room of Requirement that Potter and all his little nerd friends used for their silly little meetings for… what was it called? He mentally shrugged, unsurprisingly he didn't care what it was called.

Actually, he didn't really care for anything involving Potter. He couldn't afford to.  
Once again, the stupid cabinet failed to do what it was supposed to: make things vanish. Or, at least, vanish to where they were supposed to go.

He knew he shouldn't expect perfection right away. He was working off instinct and what little knowledge of carpentry he had to fix the dang thing. It wasn't like he had a handbook that told him what to do, and he definitely couldn't go and ask someone for help. He could already imagine the faces. "Hey Professor Flitwick, you're skilled with Charms, so you can help me repair a cabinet that makes things vanish, right? Oh what am I going to use it for? Well I'm working for the Dark Lord, you see, and he asked me to kill Dumbledore, and I was thinking, why not find a way to smuggle in a bunch of Death Eaters?"

Yeah no.

He sighed and stuffed his hands into his pockets. He stared at the ground as he walked back to the dungeons to maybe get some sleep. Hey, maybe he wouldn't get nightmares of dying a terrible death by the hands of the Dark Lord this time!

Suddenly, the window he was walking past exploded. He was quick to react by whipping out his wand and using a defensive spell to prevent the shards of glass from hitting him. Rain pelted in and thunder clapped. Then, it was silent.

He frowned as he lowered his wand with curiosity. He walked up to the broken window as he ignored the shattered glass below his feet, then stared out into the darkness of night. Everything was drenched, but the water didn't last long before a cool breeze crept in and froze it all.

He wondered what had happened. It certainly wasn't every day that a freak 1 second storm barged in and broke everything. He could see the stars in the sky, there wasn't a trace of cloud from whatever caused the storm.

He shrugged; nothing had killed him yet so he concluded that he wasn't in any danger. He snorted at the mess of shattered glass and freezing water puddles before stuffing his wand away. He then continued on his way, smirking as he imagined that useless Squib cleaning the mess up.

As he walked, something caught his attention. It was a muffled whimper.

Because of the loss of sleep and constant stress he was currently under, Draco was definitely someone who could be called 'pale'. But, that tiny whimper, made him pale even more if that were possible.

He swore and tried to find somewhere to hide. He bet that whimper belonged to that stupid cat the Squib had.

But then he heard the whimper again, this time accompanied by a sniff, and he knew that whatever made that noise wasn't a cat, but a girl.

As much as Draco tried to be heartless and evil and someone his father could be proud of, he couldn't help but want to help whomever was making the pitiful noises. What if someone didn't react like he did and got hurt by the flying glass? He quickly walked towards the girl and was surprised to be met with a familiar shaped body lying in the glass and terribly cold water as they shivered with tears rolling down their face.

"G-Granger!" He gasped.

The Mudblood gave one final whimper before promptly passing out.

He swore.

Before he could hesitate, he ran over to her and landed on his knees beside her. "Hey, you okay?" He asked, shaking her shoulder.

She didn't move.

"Dang it, why are you doing this to me you filthy Mudb-" His voice died in his throat.  
What was he doing? He was kneeling besides an injured girl and all he was doing was shaking her and insulting her lineage?! No. He was Draco Malfoy, not a coward. He set his jaw and eyed the unconscious girl. "Oh you owe me for this, Potter."

He picked up Granger and carefully made his way towards the infirmary, swearing and grumbling all the way.

* * *

 **Have you guys seen the new Thor trailer? I have and I'm dying.**

 **EnjeruTantei:** Thank you for the review! I'm always happy to find that someone likes my story. It seemed a lot of people liked the progress chapter 12 made, which i'm super glad about because I really liked the progress as well. But chapter 12 is only the beginning… ah so many evil plans and cliffhangers to come. Please continue to read and enjoy!

 **Seriously guys, that Thor trailer killed me.**

 **Chapter 14 might not come out as fast as we all would want, i'm going out of state next week and will be gone for a while, and I don't know how much access I will have to my phone while away, but please look forward to it because some fun stuff will happen!**


	14. Chapter 14: What Happened?

**AN: I realized that in past chapters I stopped thanking for the Reviews and Alerts. I really do appreciate them guys, especially when I ask for opinions on where you guys want the story to go, and you guys not only answer, but explain why. Also, it's my most favorite thing to see emails telling me people followed and favorited. Thank you so much.**

 **So, the Reviews are seriously 50/50 on the Draco vs Ron. Half of you wanted the canon pairings but also want Draco and Hermione to have a good friendship, while the other half wanted Dramione (is that the ship name? I'm so bad at keeping up with those…) for the reasons that Hermione deserves so much better than Ron, but also that they don't want romance to be any kind of focus in the story line. I've decided to back off on the potential romance of characters, but focus on the friendships that will form through this adventure. So, no pairings until probably the last chapter where everyone is at the train station with their kids :p. Lets enjoy the friendship tag for a bit. (Though I may change my mind, Dramione is kind of winning guys).**

 **Tanks to Talna for once again going above and beyond. We have a real superhero editing this story!**

 **Disclaimer: I own one hardcover copy of each of the seven Harry Potter books and I have Netflix with the Merlin series on it, but sadly do not own the actual series themselves. I just like to kidnap the characters and stuff them in my Google documents.**

* * *

 _Merlin_

A very blurry and wobbling world greeted Merlin when he opened his eyes. He tried to blink a few times to focus but the blurriness he was experiencing wasn't the kind that went away after a few blinks. It was the annoying kind that gave a small moment of clarity before making his sight even worse, as if someone had placed a plastic water bottle in front of his face, and when he knocked their hand away, they'd shrug and get another plastic bottle and shove it in his face harder.

It was infuriating.

He growled and moved his hands to his face to wipe at his eyes and grimaced when he felt the gunk that usually forms around the corners of the eyes when one sleeps. He rubbed his eyes a bit and cleaned them as he did so until he was able to see reasonably well.

He sat up in the bed he was lying on and was surprised to find that he was in the infirmary. He was dressed in his pyjamas he noticed; he wondered who had changed him.

He wracked his brain to figure out why he was placed in the infirmary. What had he been doing before he went to sleep? The window across the room caught his eye and informed him that it was morning when a blue-ish light gently shone through the curtains. Wait… that was odd… where was the actual window? All the glass was gone, leaving the large room horribly exposed to the outside world! But wait, he wasn't cold. He mentally kicked himself. Of course it wasn't cold, he was currently at a magical school which most likely had enough knowledge to keep the cold breeze from outside from making it inside with a wave of a wand.

"Professor Emrys? Are you awake?" asked the one and only Madam Pomfrey who had just entered the large room from the main entrance.

Merlin bit back a sarcastic answer (of course he was awake! How many people sit up and stare at a window with their eyes open in their sleep? Was that a normal thing at Hogwarts?) and smiled at the old woman clad in white and red. Her normally pristine appearance was not present though, her bonnet was a hair's length from falling off her head and her apron looked extremely crooked. Black bags made themselves comfortable under her eyes making her look extremely old, even for her already elderly age.

"Good morning, Madam Pomfrey," Merlin said. "Rough night?"

She snorted and looked like she was probably about to snap something about the ignorance and rudeness of young people because that's what older beings usually do, but was interrupted by another voice who had walked into the infirmary just behind Madam Pomfrey.

"You're looking a little worse for wears yourself, Professor Emrys."

Merlin raised a curious eyebrow at the newcomer, but then he quickly lowered it when he was met with the sight of Dumbledore. His stomach twisted into a difficult knot that only boy scouts know how to make and then took a trip to an amusement park and got stuck on a loop-the-loop demon coaster. He suddenly remembered what happened to make him end up where he currently was.

He had to give it to Dumbledore - colour Merlin impressed. Right when the clock struck midnight, the warlock was violently shoved into a vision/nightmare hybrid from hell, so he must have just randomly passed out in that moment as he walked alongside the old man after returning from their trip to Hogsmeade. Talk about awkward. Dumbledore must have been shocked at Merlin's random princess faint and probably took Merlin straight to his current location. Merlin knew that if someone randomly passed out next to him, he'd probably stare at the poor soul before his brain processed that the person may need help.

Dumbledore must have realized what Merlin was currently thinking about because he winked at the warlock before turning towards Madam Pomfrey with a smile and a glint of his half-moon spectacles. "Thank you for your hard work, as always, my dear. But may Professor Emrys and I have a minute?"

Madam Pomfrey's face tightened into irritation. "I have to make sure he is fully healed… after all the seizing through the night-"

Merlin blanched. "S-seizing?" He stuttered. He shot a look at Dumbledore that clearly translated to 'what happened' and 'you better explain'.

Madam Pomfrey shot a stern look at the warlock that came close to matching McGonagall's 'no fooling around' expression. "Yes, seizing. You woke up on average every thirty minutes only to panic and ramble in a different language, then start to seize. I've had to sedate you multiple times but even then you somehow forced your way into consciousness - or a fraction of consciousness at least - and go through the whole process again. Your brain took a major beating, I'm surprised you're even speaking to us right now, let alone awake. You're lucky I'm a competent healer who can fix things like brain damage with a few potions and a flick of the wand, if I wasn't, you'd be in St Mungo's about now."

Merlin mentally whistled. The thing about Madam Pomfrey was that she didn't sugar coat anything. She gave you the whole shebang, complete with the bitterness and tartness that shamed lemon flavored dark chocolate. His tongue felt shriveled and dead just thinking about it.

"Poppy, please," Dumbledore said, seriousness leaking into his voice, though there were still visible stars in his electric blue eyes.

Madam Pomfrey _humf-ed_ and stalked out of the infirmary. "Make it quick, I still need to check up on Miss Granger," she said before completely exiting the room.  
Merlin looked up at Dumbledore. "Granger? What-"

"We will get to Miss Granger's predicament all in due time. Se is currently placed in a bed much like your own but on the other side of the room, and is behind closed curtains. But first, would you please explain what exactly happened last night?"  
Merlin swallowed and avoided Dumbledore's eyes as the wizened wizard carefully made his way towards Merlin and pulled up a chair near the head of the bed. "I had a vision. Or, at least I think I did."

Dumbledore's eyebrows rose but his face otherwise remained expressionless."Really?"

Merlin nodded slowly. He sucked in some of the clean infirmary air - that smelt slightly of latex - as if it was the source of his courage. Which was a lie. "Yes… I… I saw Morgana." He looked straight into Dumbledore's blue eyes with his own. "I think she's back."

Dumbledore actually looked shocked, but the old man quickly masked his true surprise with a professional expression of seriousness. "Continue."

"I saw her," Merlin said. "She appeared in front of me and told me herself that she had finally returned."

"Well, that would explain the weather that appeared at the time you fell into the vision," Dumbledore said thoughtfully.  
Merlin shifted in his sheets. "Weather? What happened?"

"Right when you went unconscious a strange storm appeared that broke every window in the school and drenched the halls with broken glass and ice cold water. If your vision is true, I would believe that the storm was indeed a final sign of her return," Dumbledore said as he tapped a long spindly finger on his bearded chin. Merlin felt his gaze travel to the old man's blackened hand and remembered Dumbledore telling Merlin of the Horcrux he had already found and destroyed, but he quickly pushed that train of thought to the back of his mind to allow him to focus on the present situation.

"It would make sense for that to be so. Even the date it all happened matches up: December 21st, the longest night of the year, and midnight, the darkest time of day. If there was any time the veil was closest to the world of the living, it would be then."

Merlin nodded, hating that what Dumbledore was saying made sense. He wished with all his heart that it wouldn't be so, but fate had an annoying habit of making things difficult for Merlin. "As much as I hate to admit it, I think what you say is true. Morgana has returned, and she's just as powerful as ever." He looked over to where Dumbledore had earlier pointed out Miss Granger's location with a sad look. "This is more dangerous than I thought. I had barely managed to kill Morgana the first time, and now she's back and I fear that I am the only one powerful enough to stop her. I- I can't get anyone but you involved in this. We can't tell Miss Granger know what is going on."

Dumbledore wore a strange expression on his face that said he would disagree, but thankfully he didn't voice his feelings. "I see," was all he said before he stood up with creaking bones before leaving to fetch the school's healer.

* * *

 _Hermione_

Unlike Merlin's peaceful awakening, Hermione woke up in something akin to panic. She shot straight up into a sitting position on the bed she was placed in and grabbed her chest which felt like a wild animal was trying to tear itself out. Lightning flashed behind her eyes and she suddenly couldn't breathe. Why couldn't she breathe? Where was the air? Her chest pounded like a drum as the animal desperately tried to squeeze past her ribs and tear through her heart, it must have torn a hole in her lungs as well, either that or someone took all the air away.

With blurry vision she vaguely noticed the curtains around her bed rip open as an older woman Hermione couldn't think the name of approached the girl, not that she cared for the name though, she was too busy trying to gulp air that refused to enter her mouth.

She heard - through her ears that felt as if they were tossed into the bottom of the ocean - a wheezing sound that she recognized as her own frantic attempts to force oxygen into her body, but that was impossible, how could she be breathing and gasping yet still feel as if she was suffocating? The animal- no, the _monster_ sunk its claws deeper into her chest and she doubled over with a sharp groan. She hardly noticed the frantic words of whoever had opened the curtains, nor did she feel the weathered hands rub her back and try to force something into her mouth. She didn't notice anything other than the lack of air and the beast tearing a hole through her being, through her very _soul_.

She vaguely noticed something with a texture similar to honey slide down her throat, and she gagged on the strange liquid that made her think of cherry flavoured medicine mixed with orange juice. She tried to spit out whatever had been put in her mouth, but something covered her lips and she was forced to swallow. She was terrified and she could hardly think of anything other than the monster. The moment her throat allowed the disgusting liquid to pass down her oesophagus, everything came back to her as if she had been hit by a train.

The air was back. The animal gave one final shove, then retreated to its cave deep in her soul. Her vision was clearing, the only thing obstructing it were the tears she wasn't aware she had shed.

"Breathe," said an old voice that dripped with comfort. Hermione couldn't help but feel safe with the sound of the voice. She wondered who it belonged to and where they had been when she first woke up. "That's good, Miss Granger. Keep breathing. Deep breaths."

Hermione focused on the comforting feeling of oxygen entering her lungs that were not torn and reveled in the gift of carbon dioxide exiting through her mouth. The owner of the voice continued to murmur comforting words and draw circles on her back as she sat doubled over, staring at the white sheet covers she didn't recognize.

She took one deep breath before finally finding the strength to look at her saviour.  
"That's good, just focus on your breathing," the woman said. Hermione felt that she knew the woman, but was disturbed to find that her usually sharp brain was having trouble matching the woman's face to a name.

Before she could attempt to search her mind's library for the information she wanted, the comforting arms of unconsciousness wrapped around her and gently reintroduced her to the dark world one travels to when asleep.

0+*+0

Her second time waking up was a much smoother ride than her first. When her eyes traveled around her curtained off room she got a strange sense of deja vu akin to when she was finally cured of her petrification in her second year of Hogwarts.

She smacked her lips and ran her tongue through her mouth. Whatever was in her mouth, it tasted absolutely _dreadful_. It must have been some kind of medicine, most medicines were more focused on healing than taste after all.

A small clearing of the throat reached her ears. She stiffened but looked towards the source anyway and was surprised to be met with the last person she would expect.

"Professor Dumbledore!" she gasped.

The old man fixed his half-moon spectacles and chuckled. "Good evening, Miss Granger. How are you feeling?"

It took Hermione a minute to realize that she was just staring at Dumbledore with her mouth agape. When the headmaster gave an amused chuckle she quickly shut her mouth with an audible click from her teeth and hurried to find words. "Er, okay I guess." She avoided his eyes because she felt extremely embarrassed being in his presence the moment she woke up.

"That is wonderful news, Miss Granger," Dumbledore said with a smile. "Wonderful news indeed. You gave both Madam Pomfrey and I quite a scare. Many students entered the infirmary after what happened last night but you were the only one to have been unconscious. Mr Malfoy brought you here when he found you in the corridor by the library."

Heat rose to Hermione's face. She was the only one to pass out? _Malfoy_ brought her to the infirmary?!

Oh gosh she just wanted to sink into her hospital-esque bed and disappear. _Was this how Harry felt when he was the only one to pass out their third year when the Dementors searched the train?_ It was even worse to find out that _Malfoy_ \- of all people - was the one to fill the role of her 'rescuer' so to speak. She'd never live it down! Malfoy would probably from now on mimick and taunt her during lunches and dinners and she'd have yet another reason to skip meals and read books in the library.

The shock and embarrassment must have leaked into her expression because Dumbledore chuckled and put his good hand on her shoulder to give it a reassuring squeeze. "Don't worry, Mr Malfoy was actually very worried about you and wouldn't leave until he was sure you were okay. Madam Pomfrey had to kick him out when it got to crowded for bystanders to stick around."

Hermione was speechless. She was literally doing the classic opening and closing of the mouth like a fish. Draco… was worried about her?

When she didn't say anything, Dumbledore continued speaking. "Also, you were the only student to pass out, but not the only person. Professor Emrys also lost consciousness when that strange storm hit Hogwarts, so there's no need to be embarrassed."

Okay, now things were getting hilariously convenient. Hermione, Malfoy, and Emrys were all caught in the thick of the storm whilst the rest of the school filled with every teacher and almost a hundred other teens who hadn't returned home for the holiday got off with at most a few scratches. Yet, those three, out of a large group of people, were the ones to be really affected at all.

"It is strange," Dumbledore said feigning a look of disinterest.

"What is strange, Professor?" Hermione asked.

The wizard looked down at her and she tried to not sink into herself under his intense gaze. "It appears the storm had affected both you and Professor Emrys in ways I am curious to unravel. Both of you fell into unconsciousness when the storm hit, mumbled in your sleep, woke up in a panic, and you both mentioned something about a monster; though he said demon in Old English and you said something about a beast when you woke up your first time."

"Old English?"

"Indeed. A strange language for one to know, but he is, after all, a history teacher."

Hermione's brain whirled. "Wasn't Old English developed around the 5th century?"

Dumbledore nodded. "Yes it was. Brought into England by the Anglo-Saxon settlers and used for many centuries until it evolved into what we use now."

The language Camelot would have spoken. Excitement filled her veins. Could it be that while Emrys panicked he reverted back to his original language? Oh how she wished that was so! She physically smiled, knowing that she had just obtained actual evidence of Professor Emrys actually being Merlin himself! True, he could have just learned the Old English language because he specialised in history, but Hermione had never heard of any teacher learning a dead language just because they taught a subject related to it.

No, Merlin Ambrosius was definitely Emrys. She was going to prove it one way or another.

The curtains surrounding Hermione opened and in walked an old woman. Hermione instantly felt very grateful to aforementioned woman. Madam Pomfrey. Hermione actually remembered her first awakening - though she didn't remember actually saying anything about the beast but she was panicking, she must have missed a lot of stuff - and she definitely remembered the kind wrinkled hands comforting her and the whispered words of comfort. She was a little sad that the woman wasn't there for her though.

"Headmaster, Minerva is requesting to speak with you," she said in a hushed tone.

Dumbledore looked up at her with eyebrows raised. "Really? Where is she?"

He looked genuinely interested in speaking to the Transfiguration professor, but Hermione recognized that look in his eye that betrayed the real story. He must have been avoiding her all day.

"I'm right here, Headmaster."

In walked McGonagall with narrowed eyes and pencil thin lips from right behind Madam Pomfrey.

"Ah, Minerva," Dumbledore said joyfully. He stood up from the chair he had been sitting in and gently put his hand on her arm. "Shall we speak somewhere else?"  
McGonagall achieved the impossible act of narrowing her eyes even more, but she followed along with Dumbledore anyway. A few seconds later, they were both out of Hermione's makeshift room.

"Now, let's see how you're doing, dear," Madam Pomfrey said as she walked over to Hermione to check her temperature.

Hermione simply nodded and let the woman do her job as she remained quiet. McGonagall and Dumbledore were speaking in hushed tones as the voices steadily made their way towards the main doors of the infirmary, but Hermione thankfully could hear well enough to catch a few of their whispers.

" _Are you going to explain what happened last night_?" McGonagall hissed.

" _Minerva dear, I assure you I have no clue as to an answer_ ," Dumbledore replied.

Dumbledore said something else but it was too quiet for Hermione to hear.

" _I've checked, every single protective charm was broken and I can't find any of the house ghosts anywhere_ ," McGonagall said.

"Now I need you to look at my wand," Madam Pomfrey said.

Hermione had to take a second to process what was said to her. She shook her head and obeyed the healer as she was bombarded with a bright light used to check her pupils. She heard Dumbledore and McGonagall finally walk out of the large room and she hardly believed her ears.

The school charms were strong enough to keep even Voldemort out, how could they be broken so simply? Also the ghosts being missing was a mystery too.

As Madam Pomfrey moved to check her other eye, Hermione only had one thought running through her mind.

 _What in the world is going on?_

* * *

 **AN: OMB I'm having major culture shock right now. California is so freaking different from Utah. There's PALM TREES, and BEACHES, and SO MUCH HEAT. I also see lots of liquor stores, vape shops, casinos, bars, and all that. You don't see stuff like that in Utah at all. Makes me realize how sheltered of a life I have :/. I love LA though, I wouldn't mind living there if it weren't for the pollution and the lack of stars in the sky. I also miss the mountains back at home :/**

 **Austria:** You're welcome, I love writing these chapters for you guys :)

I actually considered for a moment what Hermione/Merlin would be like, but I don't think that has a huge chance of happening. I'm a very loyal follower of Merlin/Freya, and I can't see Merlin loving anyone but her for as long as he will live. I really hope my decision to keep things to just friendship till later in the books keeps everyone happy though. That's all I want, to enjoy writing and for you guys to enjoy reading it.

Greetings from Utah :p

 **EnjeruTantei:** Oh no! I don't want to kill anyone with my cliffhangers! I just want to rip your heart out, stomp all over it, and laugh maniacally while doing so. Ah, I'm a rude author and I seriously enjoy people's reaction to cliffhangers. I try to end most of my chapters with cliffies, how big they are depends on my mood for the day :p

I'm glad it's still awesome though! :D thank you for the review!

 **Mystery Guest:** Yeah I guess they do balance each other out pretty well, but idk, sometimes Ron really bothers me. And Hermione deserves so much better I feel like. She's such a good, smart, and loyal person. That's probably why I'm slightly lured to Dramione because, with events, especially in HPHBP, Ron just bothers me. It's not like I'm against Ron, he's a fun character and reminds me of myself a lot, with a big family, small house, fear of spiders, ect… it's just that sometimes I wish he would man up, you know? I still love him though!

 **By the way, chapters will be guaranteed to come out every other Saturday for a bit! I have the next four chapters completely written out, and two more planned in detail. You guys will like chapter 17, it's more of a fluff with the Weasley fam. Too much angst in these recent chapters…**


	15. Chapter 15: The Despair of Phlegm

**Has anyone read the new Magic Kaito chapter?! I have and I'm freaking out. Honestly if you guys haven't seen/read Detective Conan or Magic Kaito, I give you permission to abandon reading this fanfiction so you can get caught up on a series longer than one piece.**

 **Also, please read the last guest review I made after the chapter. I got a certain review and I felt I needed to explain myself.**

 **Thanks to my beta Talna!**

 **Also, apparently most people have playlists of music that they use for writing, if you guys have any good songs that remind you of this fic I'd be happy for suggestions!**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter or Merlin, I'm just very good at the Imperious curse that I use to put certain characters under to do my bidding. Please don't tell M.A.C.U.S.A, I didn't travel to London, kidnap characters, and come back to America just to get arrested.**

* * *

 _Harry_

When Harry woke up, he was horrified to find how _cold_ it was. The two blankets on top of his body didn't even stand a chance. He shivered and desperately tried to curl up tighter into the blankets but despaired when the change in position did nothing to chase away the extreme temperature.

As his teeth chattered, he slowly mustered the courage to sit up and allow the raw and unhindered cold air to attack his back. It took a few minutes, but he eventually worked himself up into a sitting position in the middle of the small bed he usually slept in when he visited the Burrow.

He quickly wrapped the topmost (and thickest) blanket around his body and somewhat succeeded in barricading himself against the cold.

Once he was sufficiently wrapped and not chattering his teeth as much as before he looked around Ron's small but cozy room. His eyes widened when he saw that the window located next to Ron's bed was shattered and had littered tiny pieces of glass all over the sleeping redhead, whose teeth were chattering as well. Harry wondered in awe how Ron was still asleep, it was _way_ too cold for anyone to peacefully rest.

He glared at the window, absolutely sure that it was the cause to his rather rude awakening. How in the world did the window manage to break anyways?!

As if to mock Harry, a breeze blew in and to his despair, it clawed through the blanket. Harry may as well have been sitting with only his undergarments on. Fat load of help the blanket did.

Well, even though the blanket did no help, Harry was afraid the cold would be much worse without it- if that was even possible. Harry tried to stop his chattering teeth - the constant up and down was starting to make his jaw ache terribly - and completely failed at the simple task. Harry had other things to worry about though; like Ron. Harry could hear his friend's teath smacking together at an alarming rate from where he was currently positioned. He had to wake Ron up, who knows what would happen if he didn't.

"R-r-roon-n-n…" Harry gasped. His nose stung when he breathed in the air and his mouth felt like he'd stuffed ice cream in it and bit down. It was awful.

"G-g-go aw-away… t-t-ten mmmore minutes…" Ron mumbled through his shivers. Harry fought the urge to roll his eyes. Ten more minutes and they both could be admitted to a hospital with something worse than a common cold.

Harry stood up from the bed and wobbled over to his friend. Once he reached the half-asleep teen he put his outstretched hand on the boys shoulder and shook him.

"D-dang-it, you're s-soaked!" Harry exclaimed, abruptly yanking his hand away.

Ron sneezed and Harry sniffled, it appeared they were both being significantly affected by the cold and he hated to think what would happen if he continued to let the temperature attack him and his best friend. He was about to retry shaking Ron's drenched shoulder but he jumped backwards when a high pitched shriek echoed throughout the house.

"I'M AWAKE- _OUCH_!" Ron shot up out of his bed covers but the movement caused some of the glass to cut his exposed arms.

"My dress! What 'appened to my dress!?"

More yelling erupted throughout the house. Harry could have sworn he heard Ginny scream "Phlegm!" from across the hall.

Harry instantly knew it would be a long, cold, and grumpy day.

* * *

It was later discovered that Fleur had left her nice and extremely expensive golden spider silk dress (a gift from one of her foreign relatives) hanging near the window of her room. She woke up to it shredded by glass and water stained. Harry never knew her pale skin could ever go as red as it did.

After Mrs Weasley calmed her down enough to inform her that she knew some good spells to fix it, everyone in the house (Harry, Ron, Ginny, George, Fred, Bill, Fleur, and Mrs Weasley. Mr Weasley had to leave for the Ministry very early in the morning and was still currently gone) got to work.

"I want this house completely put together before Arthur comes home," Mrs Weasley had said, already getting to work on the spider silk dress.

Fred and George volunteered to fix the windows in the house, and in Ron's mumbled opinion it was to show off their magic and to piss him (specifically) off. Harry rolled his eyes at the comment but agreed nonetheless, it _was_ something the twins would do after all.

Ginny was angered to be paired up with Fleur and given the task to find and get water stains out of the carpet with the help of Fleur's ability to legally use her magic. However, Fleur got bored halfway through the job and, much to Ginny's joy, left the house to go shopping. Bill later joined his little sister after apologizing to Mrs Weasley for Fleur's behavior. "She must still be angry over her dress," he had mumbled with embarrassed and red cheeks. Mrs Weasley waved away the apology, secretly as glad as her daughter that the French girl had left, not that she'd say that out loud to her oldest.

"Hmm, now what should I have you two boys do?" Mrs Weasley said with lips puckered in concentration.  
Ron and Harry shifted in discomfort under her narrowed stare.

"Oh shoot!" Came the panicked voice of Fred from the kitchen. There was the noise of tumbling and something glass being smashed.

After checking if her twin boys were okay, Mrs Weasley came back with a red face and told Harry and Ron with a strained voice that they were in charge of finding anything broken. The boys didn't argue or ask what happened in the kitchen (they were too scared to) and they quickly went to work.

Harry and Ron hurried through each of the rooms, careful not to miss even a water stained pillow as they went along. It was agonizingly boring but at least the house was warming up thanks to Fred and George's magic. Once Harry realized that Ron and himself were currently alone, he decided to make some small talk. If small talk meant telling some serious new information.

"Wow, wonder who they were talking about," Ron said. Harry had told Ron about the conversation he had overheard the ghosts having when the two boys were alone in the living room. He hadn't had a chance to speak at all with Ron about the new information he had learned till that moment, come to think of it, Hermione didn't know either. He'd have to talk to her later. Though, he was a little sceptical of how she'd react to Harry saying that there's a teacher in the school that was possibly as old as the building itself. He could already see her eyerolls.

Harry returned his train of thought to the present and nodded his head as he carefully placed a broken floral patterned vase in a metal wastebasket. "Well, we know he's a teacher."

"Yeah, but who? I think it's cool that they've been around since the founders," Ron said, brushing some broken window pieces from a pillow. "I mean, heck, how bloody old would he be?"

Harry shrugged. Hermione would know the answer to that, but The Chosen One still had trouble with history, even though they had a new and more exciting teacher. "Pretty old, I guess."

"And the veil, wonder what that is."

Harry thought once again about the image of his godfather falling through something called the 'veil' with cold and unseeing eyes. Harry quickly banished the thought and shook his head. "The veil to most religions is what separates the land of the dead from the living, right?"

Ron shivered. "That's creepy. If there is a 'tear' in it, that is. What if a whole bunch of dead people started to come back to life?"

Harry didn't need to have seen any zombie movies (Dudley watched a bunch of them) to know that that would be a very bad situation. Especially if those zombies had magic wands.

Ginny and Bill walked in the room, so Ron and Harry quickly ended the conversation. He vowed to continue it later.

* * *

"I'm sorry I couldn't be here to help," Mr Weasley said late that night as he sat at the dinner table with the rest of the house's occupants. "I saw the state of the house this morning as I got ready for work, but I didn't have time to fix anything. It was quite busy at the Ministry today, I couldn't afford to be late."

"That's alright, Arthur," Mrs Weasley replied with a smile. "It wasn't too hard to clean up with a bit of help from the kids."

Only Harry heard Ginny - because he was sitting right next to her - say: "House is mostly clean, just need to get rid of the stubborn Phlegm…" as she glared at Fleur who had recently returned from her shopping trip. Harry suppressed a snort of laughter.

"How is the Ministry, Dad?" Bill asked. He stuffed a bit of salmon into his mouth and waited for Mr Weasley to answer.

Mr Weasley sighed. "Not bad, but not good either. The whole country, Muggles and Wizards alike, was effected by the storm."  
Harry listened to the conversation with mild interest. He took a bite of his dinner and watched Mr Weasley as he continued to talk.

"Every single window in the whole United Kingdom shattered, scaring everyone who was awake at the time, or was woken up by it, half to death. The lightning storm lasted only a second but it managed to put all of Whales into a blackout and soak the rest of the country," Mr Weasley said, poking the fish on his plate with his fork. His expression showed no desire to actually eat it. "The Muggles are going crazy, calling the event the _Second of Terror_ , and trying to figure out what caused it. Though, not even the Ministry can pinpoint what happened."

"Do you think something magic caused it?" George asked.

Arthur shrugged. "There is certainly evidence of magic… but nothing anyone has ever seen before. The Unspeakables are loving the mystery though."

The table went quiet and all that was heard was the scraping of forks on glass plates. Ron decided to break the silence. "What will happen if the storm was caused by someone with magic? Will the Ministry wipe the minds of the Muggles?"

Mr Weasley shook his head. "Can't. It's impossible to obliviate the whole Muggle population in the UK. We'd just have to rationalize the storm and have it make sense to them, and hope for things to settle down. Hopefully they won't suspect anything."

"Do you think Voldemort caused the storm?"

Many things happened at once. Ron flinched so hard that he fell off of his chair, Ginny gasped and looked wide eyed around the room, Mrs Weasley shuddered, Fred and George spat their chocolate milk all over Bill, Mr Weasley choked on his salmon, and Fleur dramatically gasped "Mon Dieu!" before fainting off of her chair. Her hand landed over her eyes.

"What! It's a possibility!" Harry defended himself as a soaked Bill carried Fleur bridal-style out of the kitchen and into the living room to lay her down.  
Mrs Weasley ignored her husband as he banged on his chest to get the salmon out of his throat. "Harry, dear, don't you think that's…"

"Absolutely and completely mental," Fred supplied, wiping chocolate milk from his chin with the back of his hand. George copied his twin as he nodded in agreement.

Mrs Weasley shook her head. "No, impossible. You-Know-Who wouldn't do something large scale like this."

Harry wanted to glare at every person at the table. "Wow, I didn't know you were all experts on Voldemort." Everyone flinched again. "What if Vol - oh for Merlin's sake - _You-Know-Who_ \- caused the storm to get attention off him." The Ministry has been recently obsessed with finding death eaters, so much so that Harry would bet Voldemort was getting tired of the unwanted attention. What if he caused the storm so people would focus more on that instead of him?  
Mr Weasley finally cleared his airway and looked at Harry with an exasperated expression.

"You're paranoid, Harry," Ron said. He pushed himself up into his chair. "It could just have been a normal storm."

Fred nodded his head. "Yeah. You know, George and I have been working on a potion that gets rid of paranoia, we were gonna have Mad-Eye Moody test it but I think you'll do."

George copied his twins nod. "I bet he will. We have the prototype up in our room, I can go fetch it if you want."

"I am _not_ paranoid," Harry said defiantly.

"Yeah, yeah, and Snape wears dresses," Fred said as he rolled his eyes.

"Don't you remember?" Ron asked. "In third year Neville's Boggart was Snape and he made Snape wear his grandmother's clothes."

"Oh yeah," Fred said. "I wish I could have seen that…"

George interrupted whatever Ron was going to say next. "Besides Harry, would there not be a death count if You-Know-Who caused the storm?"

"Ah… well… there technically was a death count, boys," Mr Weasley said.

"What do you mean, 'technically'?" asked Bill as he reentered the kitchen. He was no longer soaked in chocolate milk and Fleur was nowhere to be seen.  
Ginny had remained quiet during the whole conversation. She simply nodded her head and looked at her father expectantly.

"Er…" Mr Weasley suddenly looked awkward. "Well, we're supposed to keep it a secret until we find out more-"

"Oh for Merlin's sake- just tell us, Arthur," Molly said.

Arthur shifted in place and bit his lip as he pondered what he was going to say. "Well… the ghosts disappeared. Every single one in the whole country."

Everyone looked at the man with wide eyes, so Mr Weasley started to frantically explain.

"At exactly midnight, the time of the storm, every ghost just… vanished. The Hogwarts house ghosts disappeared, ghosts that roam graveyards can't be found, old churches and abandoned buildings are mysteriously no longer haunted, every single one of them is just… gone."

Voices from the past suddenly flew into Harry's mind.

" _You're one of the newest ghosts here, but surely you should already know he's connected to it almost the same way we are_."

" _Connected to what? The Veil you mean?_ "

The Veil. The ghosts. The storm. Were they connected?

" _Something is breaking through the Veil_."

What's breaking through the Veil?

[" _I've never been this exhausted before, even when I was alive. Surely you must feel just as… stretched as we do. And surely you must have noticed the strange weather! It's not just Hogwarts getting this white out mess, most of the world is getting strange and extreme weather. It's like the world is tearing itself apart, and we all know what's causing it_."

" _The Tear_ …"

The Tear. Just one simple word, and it had the power to send shivers down Harry's spine. It had to be related. It just has to be. What else besides Voldemort could cause something as powerful as the storm to happen?

Once again, Harry found himself with a mystery on his hands.

* * *

 **AN: How'd you guys like this one? I enjoyed it because I finally got to add Fred and George in this. Love those two boys. (I still have to figure out if I'm gonna kill off Fred or not *anime sweat drop*)**

 **Moonlily:** You're idea is certainly interesting and I get excited just thinking about it, but unfortunately students gaining the ability to use the Old Religion would not work out with the planned time line I had made :/

Also, Harry got a power boost? I don't remember making that happen lol… did I accidentally make another plot hole or was this in the book and I skipped it? If Harry has a power boost… I may have to change some things lol.

Thank you for the welcome to LA! It was certainly an interesting place to be. The biggest city I have been in before LA was Salt Lake City here in Utah… and let me tell you that the traffic isn't as bad, and it takes a waaaaay shorter amount of time to get across the city. Seriously. A couple minutes on the highway and SLC is behind you. I love the city (mostly because of the temple there) but it's a BABY to LA. I had no clue cities could get that big lol.

Thank you for the awesome review! Please continue to bother to check up on these updates :p

 **Mystery Guests:** I live in a… _slightly_ more populated area than you haha, my Highschool has the grades 10-12 and we have over 3000 students that go there alone! I live in Utah county where it's part farmland, part suburban living, part Utah Lake. Also, I totally get the indecisive weather here. One day it's 80 degrees, the next day it's snowing and below freezing. Seriously this happened a few days ago, and it's supposed to be spring! Well, it's not all bad here. The view of the snow capped rocky mountains here are _beautiful._

Anyway, thank you for the review! I'm glad you liked the last chapter :)

 **EnjeruTantei:** Ikr. I hate reading them but it's super fun to write them. They kind of force you guys to look forward to the next chapter haha :p

Thank you for the review!

 **Astarein:** I'm glad you like the book x looking forward to you reading more x :D

 **Loki:** I couldn't tell if your review was constructive criticism or you were just angry about some events that haven't been explained yet? So hopefully you are still reading so you can get my explanation. Also, I apologize if this somehow comes off as mean? It's just me being passionate about my reasonings and I don't want to be misunderstood just because of my lack of skill as an author.

 _ **I recommend anyone still scrolling down here to read this answer to the review so I can clear up confusion in one go!**_

I never said Merlin was not as strong as Morgana. If fact, what I said was that he is the _only_ one strong _enough_ to defeat her. He doesn't want to get anyone else in the way. And yes, Merlin had failed many times to kill Morgana because of his unwillingness to do so, and when he finally killed her it was both in anger and in desperation for Arthur. I still think to this day that he still doesn't want to kill her and would probably have a hard time doing it because he never wanted to kill her, he just wanted to save her. I have a theory that he has beat himself up over and over about killing her and he regrets it greatly, because all he wants is for her to be happy and back to the sweet girl she used to be.

Now, the sentence "No Mortal blade can kill me" I think belongs to the personal translation to every person who has seen Merlin, because it was never explained in the show, she just said it before Merlin killed her with Arthur's bad-a sword. Maybe she did mean that no non-magical weapon can kill her, but I don't think that's true because that would be implying that people with magic are immortal, which contradicts the idea than anyone in the past could use the Old Religion if they practiced, which would in turn mean _everyone_ were immortal back then. No, what I think it meant is literally what she says. No human and mortal weapon could ever kill her because she was past the point of humanity. In my AU timeline she had at that point made a Horcrux as well, so it would make sense for her to be over confident that nothing can kill her. And her confidence was not dumbly based, Merlin injured her of course and she was forced to spend centuries in the afterlife with just half of her soul until she could return due to her life line. So personal interpretation and my AU story line are huge factors in what she said, so I hope that made sense.

Now, anyone who missed my last bold/italicized/underlined sentence, let me repeat myself… _**READ THE REST OF THIS REVIEW ANSWER!**_

I am definitely _not_ underestimating Merlin's power. He his freakishly strong as we could all see in the last episode. I mean, his ability to wave a staff in his older form and lightning most everything into inexistence was basically proof of that. I have reasons for making Merlin weaker than what he is and it's _**NOT**_ because I want to create plot difficulties. My reasons have not been revealed yet in the actual time line but it will soon. But, I feel like I need to explain myself of why Merlin isn't able to zap everything to death with the power inside of him, because like you said, the earth being abused by the human race is definitely not the only reason and is not extreme enough to make him weak. If you are okay with some spoilers, read the next paragraph, if you want to continue to wonder, wait for the next couple chapters.

Even Merlin doesn't know this. The explanation that the world is falling apart is the one he made for himself because he honestly had no other clue as to why his powers were not as strong as they used to be. **The real reason** (innocent children who do not want to be spoiled, leave now) **is that Horcruxes are more powerful than Merlin!** They have the ability to keep someone from dying! Merlin does not! The Old Religion is hurting because of those! Also, in my story the Old Religion doesn't sneak into Merlin's mind and tell him shiz because it never did that in the TV show, so it won't just go to Merlin and whisper that it is _injured._ It has been trying to get rid of the little annoying ways to keep someone alive but couldn't do so because it technically follows its rules! Also, MORGANA LITERALLY EMERGED FROM THE FREAKIN' AFTER LIFE. THE OLD RELIGION WAS CENTERING ALL OF ITS POWER ON KEEPING THE DANG THING CLOSED. IT DIDN'T HAVE MUCH TO SPARE FOR MERLIN AT THIS POINT.

I won't explain my idea more. If you forget everything I've said that's okay, just remember one thing. I have a plan. And it's a dang good one too. I understand I made some weird plot holes in the beginning and I know I'm not that good of an author. This is a fanfiction where I get my ideas and my interpretation and put it into 2-4 thousand word chapters each. I will not exhaust myself with pleasing everyone, so if you still don't like that Merlin is a tad weaker that what he is in the TV show, bear with me, or if you absolutely despise me right now you can leave, I'll just miss you and hope you find something that's to your liking.

Please have a nice day.

 **Okay, there was my rant for the day. Now- I need to get ready for a date.**


	16. Chapter 16: Ministry Gets Involved

**AN: (clears throat) Hi. I have returned. You guys better be glad I had this pre written almost a month ago or you guys wouldn't be getting it. School is literally killing me. I've already written a will. (Theorbess540, you get my D Gray-Man Manga btw). Good thing I only have two days left then I can say goodbye to junior year and prepare for the madness of senior year this fall. (Shivers) anyway, here's chapter 16!**

 **Oh Talna, you wonderful Beta, Thank you so much!**

 **Disclaimer: [too lazy to come up with something clever]**

* * *

 _Hermione_

"Were you scared, Miss Granger?"

Yes. But she was more than scared, she was terrified. It'd been a day since the accident and yet every time she blinked lightning flashed. Every movement ached with cuts that had long since been completely healed. Every time it was silent, she would hear the wind and thunder. She doubted her heart had calmed down to a normal rate since she had woken in the hospital bed. She was scared to walk past the now fixed windows, for fear they would burst and engulf her in razor sharp glass and the beast would return. She hadn't slept a wink since waking up in the infirmary. But did she tell that to them? Of course not.

"No, it wasn't that bad, just a bit surprising that's all," Hermione said. She shifted in the chair and looked past the two Ministry workers and instead at the book cases belonging to the library, where she was being interviewed.

Dumbledore had tried to keep the Ministry out of the school. He had wanted to give Hermione a chance to calm down but with the freak storm being a country wide event, he'd had no choice. Both Professor Emrys and Hermione hadn't had a chance to be by themselves since a group of Ministry workers and Daily Prophet interviewers had shown up.

She saw out of the corner of her eyes one of the Daily Prophet journalists write something down and Hermione couldn't help but bristle at the action. Ever since meeting Rita Skeeter, she hadn't trusted the newspaper. Not one bit.

"Do you feel safe at Hogwarts?"

Of course she did, but maybe less than before. All the protective charms broke and for a whole day left the school completely exposed. Something extremely powerful compromised the guaranteed safety at her school, and she no longer felt totally safe to let her guard down. But, even with the vulnerability of the missing charms and wards, she still felt safer at Hogwarts than she would anywhere else.

"Yes, I do." At least she was able to kind of tell the truth on that question…

Something was written again on the journalist's notes and all she wanted was to reach over the table and tear up the paper into a million tiny pieces and feed them to Fang. Or Fluffy. Or just give both of the workers to Grawp or the Centaurs, after all that was how she'd gotten rid of Umbridge last year.

"Do you wish you went home?"

No- yes… maybe. If she'd gone home she wouldn't have been attacked in the dark corridors of a large school, but in the comfort of her home. Her parents would have comforted her and she would have known she was safe.

"No, sir."

The Ministry worker sighed and rubbed the stubble on his fat chin. He looked extremely annoyed that Hermione wasn't making his job easy. He must have expected her to hate the school; to hate Dumbledore. Well, sorry, but she wasn't so desperate as to join hands with the Ministry who only knew how to mess things up.

After a few more questions that she supplied with short one or two word answers, they released her. She gladly pushed herself from the table and walked briskly away, but she didn't leave. She hid behind a bookshelf and listened to the Ministry worker and the journalist talk with each other.

"Well, that went well," the journalist said as he ran his hand through his long hair.

The Ministry worker glared at the journalist. "That girl, she's friends with that Potter boy, right? I believe she's afraid, but just doesn't want to admit it to avoid selling out Dumbledore. The old man, doesn't know what he's doing at all."

"A single storm," the journalist said, shaking his head, "just one storm broke every ward on this place. If a storm could do that, how safe do you think Hogwarts is from You-Know-Who?"

"That's what we need to focus on. Let the public know that Hogwarts isn't as safe as that old man says it is. Parents would start to home school their kids for fear He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named would break into this death trap of a school. Finally close this place down."

Hermione silently growled and walked away with a bitter taste in her mouth.

She shook her head and opened the Marauders Map she had earlier stuffed into her pocket. She had nothing to do, may as well check on what the two targets were up to.

* * *

 _Draco_

Even though Hermione hadn't voiced her true thoughts of being afraid and not feeling safe at Hogwarts, Draco had already said enough during his interview to please the Ministry. They'd commended him for rescuing the Mudblood, to which he'd said that it was a Malfoy's honour to help a girl in need. When they'd asked if he was afraid, he'd put on a fake pouting face and told them of how scared he'd been. When he'd talked about how Dumbledore was unfit to be in charge, they'd eaten it up like the words were homemade cookies.

Homemade cookies full of lies.

It was what he always did. Lie, butter up the press, sneer and destroy the reputation of Potter and Dumbledore with every word pushed through his teeth.

He'd done it so many times, it had become second nature. He didn't even know how to tell the truth anymore.

When he finally left the library after his interview, he found himself clutching his abdomen like he had an upset stomach. Who knows, maybe he did. Every time something happened at Hogwarts and he told his lies to the Daily Prophet, (I) he had always walked away with a smirk and excitement. Why not this time? What was different this time that made him want to throw up?

He sighed as he walked down the corridor with no real destination in mind. Maybe he was just tired. Tired of trying to please his father, tired of his constant stress, tired of the painful itching on his left arm. He just wanted to sleep, but he knew that if he did, he'd only have nightmares.

Draco walked.

Maybe he could go to the Vanishing Cabinet and try to fix it again. He'd managed to sneak into the restricted section a few nights ago and find a few helpful books, so maybe he could try some forbidden and difficult magic. He shrugged, he had nothing else to do.

As he walked, he noticed a figure ahead of him. He squinted to get a better look and then angrily rolled his eyes when the figure was revealed to be Snape.

Draco's mother had told him to work with the greasy old bat, but knew he couldn't. The Dark Lord gave _him_ the job of murder- getting rid of Dumbledore. It was _his_ job to do it. He knew the Dark Lord gave him the task to punish his captured father, but Draco still knew that he had to do it alone. The way the Dark Lord put his hand on his shoulder and hissed into his ear was enough to scare him into doing his bidding exactly the way he was told. And he was told to do it alone.

But… he was curious. Had the Dark Lord caused the storm? Draco had certainly not been told of any storms meant to destroy windows from across the whole country. Snape would know. He was practically the Dark Lord's right hand man, right?

A war between his pride and curiosity began in his mind, but eventually curiosity won and he found himself stopping right in front of Snape.

"Mr Malfoy," Snape greeted with his usual monotone voice and narrowed eyes.

Draco swallowed. He was NOT afraid of Snape. He wouldn't let the man's posture, voice, height, nor gaze intimidate him. "I was wondering if I could ask you something."

Draco couldn't mistake the hope that flashed in Snape's eyes. Clearly the man thought he was going to ask for help. Well, time to prove the man wrong.

"I was wondering if the Dark Lord had anything to do with the storm," Draco said, crossing his arms and totally not enjoying the way Snape's face fell. Nope. He didn't enjoy it at all. He just wished he had a camera.

Snape quickly recovered and narrowed his dark eyes at Draco. "Why do you wish to know?" It wasn't a question; it was a demand.

Draco narrowed his eyes as well. "Answer my question first."

Snape stared at Draco for a few moments before taking a breath to speak. "Not even I know the full extent of the Dark Lord's plans. If he had indeed caused the storm, then he had his reasons and I will not question them."

"Yes, but do you think he is responsible?"

"It is of little importance what I think. The Dark Lord will tell us what we need to know and no more. If-"

"Answer the question, Snape."

Snape sighed. "No. I do not think the Dark Lord would have caused this."

Draco nodded and walked away without a goodbye. He could practically feel Snape's glare burning holes into his back, but he didn't care. If Voldemort wasn't the cause of the storm, who was? Surely it couldn't have been natural.

He continued on and made his way towards the Room of Requirement, but found himself suddenly halted by a girl with curly brown hair and a strange map in her hands who literally ran into him.

* * *

 _Merlin_

He rubbed his temples. He had just escaped from the Ministry and the journalists not thirty minutes ago to catch himself up with the world news, and he was not liking what he was seeing.

 _ **GHOSTS VANISHING? WHERE DID THEY GO? AUSTRIAN MAGICAL GOVERNMENT WORKERS ARE CLUELESS.**_

 _ **M.A.C.U.S.A STRUGGLES WITH NO-MAJ SUSPICION WHEN BUTTER KNIVES ACROSS THE USA ARE FOUND FLOATING IN MID AIR.**_

 _ **EVERY SAKURA TREE IN JAPAN TURNS BLUE? WHAT IS THE CAUSE?!**_

So. Many. Headlines.

The United Kingdom, Wales most of all, had been subject to the brunt of the strangeness, but the number of strange headlines from foreign newspapers proved that the UK wasn't the only place affected.

It worried him to no end.

The weirdness and his vision were enough to confirm his deepest fear.  
Morgana had succeeded at returning, and the whole world would feel her wrath.

What scared Merlin the most was that he didn't even know where she was, and what she planned to do.

He sighed and leaned backwards into his chair as he rubbed the slight mess of stubble growing on his chin. His gaze turned towards the window as he pondered. Before he knew it the sun had started to sink behind the mountains, dimming his chambers. He sighed and lifted his hand towards the fireplace on the far side of his room. "Leohtbora," he said as his eyes flashed a pure gold.

Fire suddenly sprouted from the logs sitting in the fireplace but it wasn't a simple light like he'd intended. No. It was a freaking explosion. Flames lept out of the brick fireplace like some kind of jumping snake from hell and proceeded to light his rug on fire.

"W-woah!" Merlin yelled as he toppled out of his chair in surprise.

He quickly scrambled to his feet and he stared at the fire for a second. He'd performed a simple lighting spell! Why had it come out as powerful as it had?!

He lifted his hand with the intention to drench the fire in a stream of water before it could spread. "Bilewitne Burn," he yelled with once again: flashing gold eyes.

What was supposed to be a gentle stream of water flowing from the palm of his hand became basically a Muggle's fire hydrant. Water burst with such force that he flew backwards into his desk and toppled over to the other side with a groan. He quickly ended the spell before he could drench himself and the room even more and soon found himself quietly lying in a pile of whatever used to be on the surface of his desk as water dripped from various places of his chambers. After just pondering his life choices for a few seconds he pulled himself to a sitting position to peek over his overturned desk. He groaned when his back protested by making him aware of pain. He instantly knew he'd be the proud new owner of several bruises.

Just as he'd feared, everything was soaked. Well, at least the fire was out…

Merlin was made suddenly aware of a pounding on his door.

"Professor Emrys?" Came the lovely voice of the beautiful Professor McGonagall who seemed to have horrible timing.

Merlin silently swore and leaped to his feet before running to the door. He opened it and tried his best to hide the view of his sleeping chambers. "Yes?" he asked, trying his best to lean against the door frame without aggravating any new injuries.

Professor McGonagall raised an eyebrow at his appearance. "What in Merlin's name have you done." She had that tone of voice where she wasn't asking, she was just disappointed and was already guessing the worst. Merlin flinched at the use of his name but brushed it off with a guilty shrug. She rose an eyebrow at him, then shook her head with a sigh. "Never mind, I don't think I want to know. The Headmaster requested that I to deliver this to you."

She proceeded to hand a yellowed piece of folded parchment to Merlin before promptly walking away. Merlin let out a breath he hadn't known he'd been holding before slowly backing into his room and shutting the door. Fingering the parchment, he made his way to his desk and picked his fallen chair up from the wet ground. He sat down and opened the letter.

" _Emrys,_

 _I was wondering if you would fancy a small walk with me to Hogsmeade on Christmas Eve for a bit of shopping. I would much love to buy a new knitted scarf and maybe a few of those Chocolate Frogs the students love so much. I still haven't gotten my own card!_

 _Please come to my office at noon on the 24th._

 _Albus Dumbledore._ "

* * *

 **(Mario Voice) LETSA GO!**

 **Loki:** Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhshdjdnfnmskfksnskkdndndhenenmemxokdnsnkxksmd YOU BEAUTIFUL HUMAN BEING I LOVE YOU (Squeezes the life out of you in a monster hug). Thank you so much for telling me that I cleared it up! I was honestly so super scared that I came off as rude and I tried not to be, I'm just passionate about my story because I have never worked this hard on any other fanfiction before, HPIHT is my baby that I'm sharing with the world and I want everyone to love it, so when I get questions and stuff I try to explain the best to my abilities without spoiling or offending. Thank you so much for explaining your own thought process and just reviewing in general. To tell you the truth I was stuck on planning some of my story and when you reviewed it actually gave me the idea that made the last part of this chapter! THANK YOU. also, you make me blush, I'm not a perfect author… just a teenage fam girl with a very patient and amazing beta. Also, don't think you guys don't matter to me, I try to remember the usernames of every person that reviews so I can remember if you guys have reviewed before, and I'm so glad I do that because it has allowed me to get to know each of my readers a bit better. Each of you have an amazing personality that makes me smile with every review I get, I will try to remember your usernames you review by (though don't blame me if I fail at it because there is a reason I have to completely plan out this story; I don't trust my memory)

Also, I LOVE LONG REVIEWS! Don't feel sorry for making a super long one, when I was reading them I was smiling like an idiot! Also THANK YOU for the song suggestions! I haven't listened to a lot of them before actually, and popular songs are something you can recommend because I'm honestly so out of the times with music. I mostly listen to music that came out 1980-2010 because I don't trust a lot of the new music with all the swearing and stuff (if you can't tell by my story by itself, I don't swear). Any way, I don't want this too long, but thank you so much. I look forward to your reviews!

 **AN: Make sure to suggest songs, whether they're songs that remind you of HPIHT or it's just your favorite song, I welcome all! I want to make a playlist and I'll put the songs I put in it on my profile so you guys can read with the songs I write with. Review! I love every one I get!**

 **Also, if you guys are curious, I have a Tumblr. I was thinking of telling you guys it so if you want to you can follow me on there and I can give updates on HPIHT and answer questions and stuff. Rn all I have is a few anime and Voltron posts but if you guys are curious, check it out! My Tumblr username is torichan332.**


	17. Chapter 17：Feminine Ways

**你好吗？我很好。我今天是很来，对不起你们。**

 **Hey guys, Saturday snuck up on me so I'm sorry this is a bit late but I wanted to get this out before Sunday, so :p**

 **Thanks to my beta Talna**

 **Disclaimer: How many times do I do this before it gets old?**

* * *

 _Harry_

Harry groaned in utter annoyance when his scar twinged painfully for the seventh time that morning. Ever since the storm his little lightning bolt trademark had been bothering him nonstop. At first he'd thought that perhaps Voldemort was nearby but then he'd noticed that it wasn't that kind of pain. The pain in his scar was mostly just discomfort while the pain he would get if Voldemort was in the same area was like fire and brimstone. Maybe Fred and George were right, maybe he was just paranoid and his scar hurting was just his worrying mind tricking him. Maybe he should ask for the potion for paranoia they were talking about…

No! No, Harry Potter was not paranoid! No matter what the members of the Weasley family told him, he knew that Voldemort was responsible for the storm! He just had to prove it.

"Stop glaring at the wall, Harry. It didn't do anything to you."

Harry sighed and shot his best friend a narrowed look. "I'm not glaring at the wall."

Ron rolled his eyes as he slipped a brown and orange striped sweater over his arms. "Yeah, because you switched your glare to me," he said sarcastically.

Harry angrily tugged on his socks with such force he was secretly surprised he hadn't ripped them. He turned his gaze to the floor and ignored Ron. He was so frustrated! Why was it that even his best friend didn't believe him? He had done so much for Ron and yet Ron couldn't trust Harry with this. Harry clicked his tongue and rubbed his scar. He knew he was right, he usually was with feelings like his current one. But did Ron or even Hermione ever believe him? No. They never did until he was proven right and it was too late for them to do anything.

"Are you still angry over last night?" Ron asked with uncertainty in his voice, like he was considering whether or not it was actually a good idea to talk to Harry.

Harry inhaled air quickly through his nose like it would be the source of calmness. "Nope. Not at all."

"Look, I know you want You-Know-Who to be finally making moves…" Harry glared at Ron, making his best friend raise his arms in defence. "Seriously Harry, for all we know the storm was caused by a passing asteroid or something. We can't be too eager to confront You-Know-Who! It's mental… we wouldn't stand a chance. Plus, if it really was You-Know-Who, don't you think Dumbledore would have contacted you already?" When Harry didn't answer, Ron continued with a satisfied expression. "We can't just jump to conclusions. Maybe the disappearance of the ghosts is just a coincidence. Maybe they all took a vacation to Transylvania or something."

Harry, this time, let out a breath like it was the source of calmness. "Whatever."

Ron looked like he was going to say something more but the voice of Mrs Weasley cut him off. "Boys, breakfast!" There was a cracking noise and a scream next. "Fred! George! Stop apparating in the house!"

"OW WOMAN, LE' GO OF ME!"

Ron and Harry walked down to the kitchen to find both Fred and George sitting at the dining table, rubbing their red ears which, until just a moment ago, had been clasped in the hands of their mother with tears in their eyes. Mrs Weasley was whistling a song whilst stirring the contents of a skillet. Harry suppressed a shiver at the sight of her so calmly cooking breakfast after whatever she had done to her twin boys.

"Mornin'," George said, lifting a cup of milk in a toast as he continued to rub his ear with his other hand.

"Good morning," Harry said. George lifted an eyebrow at Harry which resulted in Harry realizing that he had just said 'good morning' with a frown. He quickly put on a fake smile and sat down at the table, Ron following not far behind. "What's for breakfast Mrs Weasley? It smells delicious."

"French toast and eggs, dear," Mrs Weasley replied, setting down a plate in front of Harry. He smiled in delight before digging in.

Harry swallowed a bite of eggs covered in a brown-red syrup and looked at the woman of the house. "Where is Mr Weasley?" He asked. He had hoped to talk with the Ministry man about the 'Second of Terror' and about the ghosts' disappearance once again and try to convince him that Voldemort was responsible. He'd also hoped to talk a bit about the conversation he'd overheard Snape and Malfoy having.

Mrs Weasley sighed and sent a longing glance at the ever famous clock that depicted every family member on a separate hand. Right when Harry shot a glance over as well Mr Weasley's hand switched from 'Travelling' to 'Work'. "Sorry dear," Mrs Weasley said, turning back to making more breakfast for the rest of the household that hadn't eaten yet, "the Ministry is keeping him quite busy, so many Muggles being frightened over the storm is causing quite a ruckus and they need him just in case. He may not be home in time for Christmas." Right when she said 'Christmas', an egg she was holding in her hand exploded. Even Fred and George quieted down to cautiously watch as the fiery mother calmly wiped her hand on her apron. "Oh well, here," she walked over to Harry and dropped another slice of French toast and a scoop of eggs onto Harry's plate, "have some more. You're so terribly thin…"

"Hey!" Ron demanded, holding up his almost empty plate. "Why don't I get more?"

Mrs Weasley shot Ron a narrowed glance. "You are fully capable of serving yourself Ronald Weasley."

Ron rolled his eyes and mumbled something incoherent under his breath. He stood up from the table and started to walk towards the living room. "Come on Harry, let's play some chess," he grumbled before completely leaving the kitchen.

Harry quickly shoved the rest of his second serving of French toast into his mouth before following after Ron and thanking Mrs Weasley. He found Ron already setting up the chess board while Ginny sat on an armchair reading an interesting looking book. She peeked over the top of the book and smiled. "Good morning, Harry."

Harry stared wide eyed at her for a minute before shaking his head. He smiled back at her. "Good morning," he said.

"You're Black, Harry," Ron said as he ignored his sister.

Harry looked at the wizarding chess board and noticed Ron - who chose the white pieces without asking Harry first - had already moved one of the pawns down the board two spaces.

"Oh, can I watch?" Ginny asked as she stuck a random paper into her book to hold her place. She set it down on the armrest of the sofa and scooted down to sit on the floor next to the chess board.

Ron sighed. "Whatever."

Harry smiled. "Of course!"

He moved one of his pawns forward one square and Ron moved a castle straight down, then Harry moved a knight in that weird 'L' shape they go in, and then the game kicked off where both boys were in full concentration mode. Well, Harry would have been in full concentration mode if a certain red headed girl wasn't leaning too close to Harry and looking over his shoulder with wide and curious eyes. He tried to ignore the way her eyelashes waved when she blinked and the way her teeth were resting on her red lips…

"Harry, I just took out your Queen you know…"

Rons voice pulled Harry back to the game and he watched in despair as Ron's bishop attacked Harry's queen and dragged her off the board.

Okay… he just had to ignore Ginny. Ignore how her arm brushed against his every once in awhile when she shifted. Ignore the freckles he'd never noticed before that adorned her nose. Ignore how her hair was mostly straight but went into beautiful curls at the tips. Ignore…

"Check Mate!" Ron announced happily as Harry's king dropped to his knees in despair before doing nothing less than self destructing.

Harry stared at the board with annoyance. Not at the game itself, but at him! Why was he getting distracted by Ginny?! She was just a good friend… no… just the sister of a good friend. Harry and Ginny never talked much anyway, so why did his heart speed up when she was near? Why did he constantly want to hold her in his arms, or brush the stray hairs from her eyes, or caress her cheek just before leaning in-

NO.

NONONONO. She was Ron's SISTER and Dean's GIRLFRIEND! He shouldn't be thinking those thoughts! He mentally slapped himself and completely ignored Ginny's presence behind him that smelled of sweat sweat honey and roses and…

"Rematch!" Harry demanded before he could think anymore into his last thought.

Ron smirked and leaned over the board. "You sure? You seem to be having trouble concentrating today, are you sure you can beat me?"

Harry met Ron's gaze determinedly. That was the only answer Ron needed and he worked on setting up the board again. This time Ron let Harry be white so Harry made the first move. He commanded one of the pawns to move only one space forward.

They played for a few minutes in their own world, but then Ginny's leg brushed his thigh when she leaned forward to get a better look and Harry almost exploded like his king did the last round. 'Dang it Ginny and your feminine ways!' Harry thought as he tried to keep a furious blush from making itself known on his cheeks.

He could do this. He just had to pretend that Ginny wasn't there and that it was only him and Ron. Them two. Playing in Ron's living room. Without a girl leaning over his shoulder. Nope. Just two boys playing a game of war and-

He lost.

There went his king. Blown up like his pride and being dragged off the board like the dozen other white pieces. Ron hadn't even lost one piece.

Harry groaned and flopped onto his back on the floor and his scar twinged angrily.

Why was his life so difficult?

* * *

"Now I want this house spotless," Mrs Weasley said as she handed Ron a broom. "Remus will be here tomorrow and I don't want this house to be the pigsty that it usually is. Now, chop chop!"

Ron groaned and threw the broom over his shoulder as Harry struggled to carry a bucket of water and a mop at the same time. After a few games of chess Mrs Weasley had gathered all of her children (Harry included) and set them each up with chores. She'd confiscated both Fred and George's wands and given them the assignment of degnoming the back yard. Both twins were enraged at having their wands taken but the rest of the house's occupants were secretly glad that they didn't have them, for both the sake of the gnomes and Mrs Weasley's garden.

Fleur had conveniently gone missing and Bill was helping Ginny move his bed into Fred and George's room so Lupin would have a place to sleep.

After a few hours the house was practically sparkling and everyone was wiping beads of sweat from their foreheads from the large amount of labour they had been put through. Harry dumped dirty mop water out in the back yard and enjoyed watching the water spread and melt the multiple inches of snow as it went. His teeth chattered and he could see his breath but the weather was beautiful that day. After the months of terrible storms that had threatened to blow over pretty much anything, the cold and peaceful weather they were having was heavenly and much appreciated.

Something hit the back of his head suddenly. He yelled and stumbled forward in time to notice that upon impact, his glasses which had fallen off his face and landed under his foot, had shattered.

"Oh! Sorry, Harry," Fred said not sounding very sorry at all.

George picked up Harry's glasses and fixed them with a wave of his recently returned wand. Harry shoved the glasses back on his face and turned to face the twins with an annoyed expression, but his annoyance was quickly replaced with excitement when he saw what the twins were holding.

"What do you say, Harry?" Fred asked, tossing a broom into Harry's arms.

"I'll go get Ron," Harry said with a huge grin.

Harry ran inside and quickly grabbed Ron. He put on the heaviest jacket he had with him as he ignored Ron's complaints of it being cold outside, and then they both emerged into the gnome free and snow covered backyard.

What had begun as a friendly game of Quidditch quickly escalated into an all out war. A war in which the rules were forgotten and they armed themselves with snowballs. Harry didn't have gloves but he hardly cared about the snow directly touching his red hands as he flew on a broom much cheaper and slower than his own. He dodged a snowball thrown by George and returned fire with his own. He felt deep satisfaction when the snowball exploded on the side of George's face.

"Oh it's on, Harry!" George yelled as he plummeted towards a nice looking area of snow.

Mrs Weasley was busy doing dishes while the boys played and once she had finally put away the last plate, she noticed how quiet it was. She narrowed her eyes. Quiet was never good. She suddenly heard a yell from outside. She hurried and looked outside the window and gasped when she saw George hit Harry square in the face, causing the poor boy to fall from his broom. She was scurrying outside before Harry even hit the ground.

Harry hit the snow with a fwump and stared at the blue sky for a few moments in a daze.

"George! What in the world are you doing?!" Mrs Weasley called out in an outrage. Harry turned his head to the woman and watched as she struggled to trudge through the snow in slippers.

Ron and Fred landed on the snow looking at George with pity. George swallowed and landed next to Harry and offered a hand. Harry gladly took it and was soon on his feet. Mrs Weasley started to yell at George with things like "you could have hurt him!" And "I raised you better than this!"

Harry quickly intervened before George melted into the snow in shame. "It's okay, Mrs Weasley! I'm fine, see?" He lifted his arms and did a twirl for Mrs Weasley to get a good look at him.

"Oh dear, your glasses are broken…" Mrs Weasley said reaching forward to take the now broken tool used for seeing.

Harry inspected his glasses and noticed that one of the lenses was cracked. He shrugged and handed them to her to fix them. "It's okay, they break all the time." Mrs Weasley didn't look reassured as she dug out her wand. "Also, don't get mad at George, I fall off my broom all the time too. This was one of my softer landings."

The mother smiled softly before handing back the glasses. "Well, as long as you're unhurt. Now, look at all of you! Ron you're going to catch a cold in that jacket!"

Ron rolled his eyes and crossed his arms.

"Now get inside, all of you. The sun is going down and dinner's almost ready."

All four boys and the mother headed inside after shedding their jackets and putting away their brooms. They all dispersed to do their own thing until Mrs Weasley called them back for dinner.

Fred and George went to interrogate Ginny about where she'd acquired the hot chocolate she was sipping as she read the same book she'd been reading earlier and Ron and Harry sat down for another game of chess. Harry looked over at the armchair Mr Weasley usually sat in to read the news and he noticed an untouched Daily Prophet sitting on it awaiting the Ministry man's return from work. He was just about to look away, but his gaze lingered with surprise when he saw Hermione's face glaring out from under the front page's Headline.

* * *

 **AN: Thanks for reading!**

 **EnjiruTantei:** You guys will find out more about Merlin's predicament next chapter, so look forward to that! :)

Thank you for the review!

 **Mystery Guest 1:** Awe thank you!

 **Mystery Guest 2:** I'm glad you're enjoying it. You know, there needs to be more good old friendship stories and less romance, there's so much kissing I can take before I have to move on to something so freaking angsty. Now, concerning Arthur…. No he will not make an appearance. Maybe in a sequel? I don't know, I want this story to focus on Merlin and Morgana. Thank you for the review!

 **Loki:** Before I start to answer you reviews, can I just say that you are literally my favorite person? You are adorable.

I'm glad you are liking what's going on in Merlin and Hermione's perspective, I am too! I can't wait for the next chapter because of soooooo many things!

Thank you for all the song suggestions, I love like… 95 percent of them. Don't worry about some of the words going missing, I eventually figured it all out and got all the songs. Also, that's cool that English isn't your first language! So many people that read this aren't from English speaking countries and it makes me all warm and fuzzy inside because that must be really hard to, to read in a different language. I'm studying Chinese right now and let me tell you how difficult it is to read that. Mind me asking what your native language is? I really like learning of other cultures and it makes me happy that someone not from America I enjoying this. Anyway, I look forward to your next review! and… DON'T DIE PLEASE, I NEED YOU! I WILL MAKE SURE YOU LIVE!

 **I AM SO SORRY IF I MISSED ANYONE! IM GETTING SO MANY FREAKING REVIEWS THAT IT'S HARD FOR THIS TEENAGE MIND THAT'S FRESH OUT OF SCHOOL TO PROCESS AND REMEMBER THAT NUMBER OF REVIEWS.**

Keep reviewing though guys. I luv ya nerds.


	18. Chapter 18: Ice Breakers

**Everybody, leave a review right freaking now and thank Talna for editing this chapter. Without her, this wouldn't 1: come out on time today, and 2: be as perfect as it is. She got it done quick and on short notice.**

 **Seriously. Thank her right now.**

 **Disclaimer: wouldn't it be funny if I did own Harry Potter and Merlin? Can you imagine an author going onto this site and writing fan fiction for their own work? That would be hilarious.**

* * *

 _Hermione_

Much to her joy, she managed to catch herself before she fell on her rear end. She quickly tapped the map in her hands with her wand and whispered the secret words to hide the ink on the pages before hiding it in her robes and turning her attention to her unfortunate victim. (She could admit that her charging down the hall like a wild bull was the cause of the collision).

An apology seemed to somehow both flare and die in her throat simultaneously. She was a very polite person, so it was almost second nature for her to apologize for mistakes. Her old Muggle friends had told her that she apologized too much, and her dad had tried to lecture her that sometimes she had to stick up for herself, but it was like telling her to stop breathing when she didn't mumble an apology for something as simple as bumping into someone in a narrow hallway.

But, looking down at the person who had been less fortunate than she in remaining upright almost made her want to turn tail and saunter away in as aloof a manner as she could manage. It was Draco Malfoy. Of all the people in the school that she could run straight into it had to be Malfoy. She knew that she had originally been using the map to find either Malfoy or Emrys, but she'd hoped for a more stealthy approach with spy music playing inside her head.

Truthfully, she had no idea how she'd failed to notice Malfoy on the map before charging into him.

Her inherent desire to just apologise for everything contradicted the ever present desire to take a second swing at Malfoy's face and the need to thank him for helping her, so she just kind of stood there. Staring dumbly.

Malfoy, to his credit, didn't do much more than what she was doing. It was clear on his pale face that he had landed with a considerable amount of force on his tail bone. Judging by the obvious twitching of his fingers he was fighting not to disgrace his image (already disgraced in Hermione's mind but oh well) by rubbing his behind. His eyes locked with hers and they both stared at each other with the same dumb and conflicted look on their faces.

Hermione's mind screamed at her to do something (I). Yell at him. Kick him in the shins. Do an Irish jig. Say ANYTHING. But her body wasn't listening and her tongue suddenly felt like lead. Finally, she forced her body to cooperate and opened her mouth. She wasn't sure what she was going to say. She knew that whatever came out of her mouth was a toss up between something super intelligent but not related to the situation, a mumbled 'sorry…', or possibly whale noises.

Thankfully, she never found out what she'd been about to say because Malfoy cut her off mid breath.

"You absolute buffoon!"

Oh, thank God. It was an insult. She didn't know what she would have done if it had been something else. What if _Malfoy_ had apologised? What if he'd brought up the incident with the storm? She didn't want to know what she would do if he said either of those things. The chances of whale noises would probably rise.

But insults?

She could handle that.

"Well, at least I didn't fall down like an unbalanced idiot," she said. She decided that the best way to deal with her mixed emotions was to pretend none of them existed. Just pick at his dignity, tear a hole, watch him suffer, and go from there. Maybe she should punch him in the face like she did in her third year…

No. Wait. She was being irrational again. Gosh darn it.

Malfoy narrowed his eyes at her before he quickly pushed himself to his feet. Hermione could tell that he was mentally trying to convince himself that he'd never fallen on the floor, and just forget about it and move on. Let father know about it and get the Mudblood kicked out of Hogwarts.

Hermione mentally scoffed. Like she'd ever let him do that.

"I've seen toddlers with more balance than you," she continued before he could say something back to her.

Malfoy's ears reddened to the color of Ron's hair. "W-well I've seen dogs with more competence than you!"

She would have liked to gasp dramatically while grabbing at her chest and simultaneously turn away at just the right angle to show just how offending that sentence was, but she didn't. Firstly, because he'd stuttered at the beginning, resulting in the fire going poof before it was even lit, and secondly, because she knew it wasn't true. If she was dumber than a dog, she didn't want to know the level of intelligence of Harry and Ron, let alone the rest of humanity.

So, instead of being offended, she let a smirk cross her lips and if she were wearing makeup, she knew it would have looked absolutely intimidating and gorgeous like the models in the magazines her mother bought. Sadly, Hermione believed in natural beauty (not really, she was just lazy) so she was just intimidating. She substituted the makeup with clenched fists resting on her hips.

"A dog, Malfoy? Surely a ferret like you can do better than that."

At the word 'ferret' Malfoy's posture changed dramatically. He narrowed his eyes and bared his teeth, clearly remembering the scarring memory from their fourth year. Barty Crouch Jr. had been a terrible man, but Hermione had to give him some credit for giving Malfoy the punishment that he had. She only wished she could have seen it.

The next thing Hermione and Malfoy knew, they were bickering back and forth, insulting and getting into each other's personal space to make the other person uncomfortable. At some point Hermione started to sing "Draco Malfoy: The Amazing Bouncing Ferret!" loud enough that one of the paintings could be heard chuckling. Malfoy reacted by saying a swamp was more pure than her, to which she responded by sticking out her foot and tripping him. When did they start walking? Neither of them knew. They just did.

Before they knew it, they were out a random door that neither of them payed attention to. Both of their next insults fizzled into nothingness when a snowflake landed softly on Hermione's nose.

Both of them looked around in bewilderment when they found themselves suddenly outside. Neither of them knew how they'd ended up in the courtyard, but there they were, now covered in white flakes that stuck to their hair and clothes.

Hermione looked up into the grey clouds with an emotion she couldn't place. Malfoy was silent beside her which she found odd, but there was some kind of feeling that settled down into her heart and possibly Malfoy's too as they stood in the windless snowfall. The flakes were the size of marbles and telling by the crunch it made beneath her shoes, it was good packing snow. There was no guesswork to be done to know that there would be an army of snowmen and snow angels by the next morning.

She looked down at the undisturbed almost half foot of snow that was starting to climb up the hem of her robes. She grinned when an idea popped into her head. She snuck a glance at Malfoy and was pleased when she found that he was too engrossed in the falling snow to notice her bend down and pick some up in her already red fingers. She let out a breathy laugh through her nose, steam flowing out like a dragon, and formed the snow into a ball.

Then she threw it.

* * *

 _Draco_

How had he ended up outside of all places? Honestly he had been too absorbed in the familiar bantering to notice that he had started walking, let alone actually opened a door. But both him and the Mudblood had somehow made their way outside and his next insult died in his throat when a snowflake landed on the tip of her freckled nose. His heart seemed to stop when he saw her eyes go cross eyed before she wiped off the flake with a swish of her robe sleeve.

He quickly looked away and stared at the sky. Snow fell all around him and there was a peaceful silence surrounding him that was only present in snowfall. He would be lying if he said it wasn't beautiful.

His heart felt warm even though he could already feel his cheeks going red. It was so nice. He _felt_ nice. It was a good feeling.

The itching on his left arm reminded him that he didn't deserve that feeling.

He was about to wordlessly turn away and head back inside, but he was stopped when something cold and heartless slammed right into his face.

He yelped in surprise and thankfully didn't fall over again. Yay for what was left of his dignity not being destroyed! He brushed the snow from his face with cold hands and glared at his attacker.

She stood with some kind of confidence that Draco had never seen in her before. She was smirking, showing off her front teeth, and tossing another snowball up and down in her hands. Draco knew that if he didn't react, she'd fire at him again.

"You'll regret this," he growled. He bent down to scoop up his own handful of snow and ignored the numbness spreading through his fingers. He knew that what he was about to do went against all the codes and honour of the Malfoy family, but he didn't care. He wanted to see her hair that was currently dry, only covered by a couple dozen flakes, soaked.

He threw the ball of tightly packed snow and yelled in triumph when it hit her on her left temple. However, his victory was short lived as she didn't even pause to brush the frozen water from her curls before returning fire. He quickly made a nearby pillar his fort as he gathered more fire power. She was going down.

*-o-o-o-*

Fifteen minutes passed and Draco didn't know when he'd stopped calling her Mudblood. One moment he was insulting her lineage, the next he was calling her by her first name.

That was probably what made them stop and fully realize just what they were doing.

They both stood there, staring at each other with wide eyes and breathing heavily, un-launched snowballs dropping from their numb hands. The vapour caused by his breathing did not deter his gaze at all. He was soaked and so was she. His hands were splotched red and white and so were hers. His cheeks and ears burned and he wondered if they were as red as hers were.

Somehow, the word 'enemy' under which she had been filed in his mind had turned into 'friend', and he didn't know how he felt about that.

The painful twinge that vibrated across his left forearm reminded him that he didn't get to choose how he felt. He was a Death Eater, following the command of none other than the Dark Lord. Making friends with Hermione… no, making friends with _Granger_ would brand him a traitor not only because of her impure blood, but also because she was best friends with Potter.

Gosh he'd been stupid. He couldn't believe he was actually out in the freezing cold snow and having a _snowball fight_ with the girl that was not only an enemy of his house, but by every moral he had.

Every moral his father forced on him.

But it was odd. He didn't feel cold. If anything, there was a warmth he hadn't felt in a very long time. He wasn't sure if he was so cold he was starting hallucinate, or if somehow the snow cast a spell on him that reminded him of a time before he was old enough to know the horrors of the world.

Right now it was just the newly disturbed snow, Granger, and himself.

And that frightened him.

He realized that they were still staring at each other, chests heaving and eyes wide. Granger realized it too and her red cheeks grew more red for some reason. She turned away and started to comb out her wet hair with shaking fingers.

He had to say something. He could see in her eyes that she also wanted to, but neither of them knew what to say.

Thankfully, because he didn't know what would have said (probably whale noises), Granger spoke first.

"You look ridiculous."

An insult. Thank Merlin. He could respond to that.

"You look like a wet dog," he said with a glare. "You smell like one too."

She glared back. "I'd say you look like a wet ferret but I just remembered that you are one."

Again with the ferret. No one would ever let him live that down would they?! Even his own mother would gently and playfully elbow him in the ribs whenever they passed the pet shop in Diagon Alley and a ferret was on display. Granger calling him a ferret didn't even phase him anymore. Well… actually that was a lie. He was kind of angry.

Kind of.

He glared at her full on and crossed his arms before turning away. As much as he wanted to continue to banter and fight, he knew that doing so would betray his father's trust. He would betray the Dark Lord's trust. He wasn't prepared for the consequences that would follow.

He didn't say anything before spinning on his heel and walking away. He didn't know what he would say. It wasn't like he needed to say anything anyway. She was an enemy in his quest for… for something. Something that would make the Dark Mark, the killing, the betraying… worth it. Somehow.

But he was stopped when she said something he would never have expected in a million years.

"Thanks, Draco."

"For what?" He said the words before he could stop himself. He turned to look at her thinking she would be smirking and then she'd point at him and laugh at how gullible he was. But she wasn't. She was smiling. An actual smile. A real one. The kind of smile no one but his mother gave him when she told him that she loved him.

"For taking me to the hospital wing… and for this evening…" she shifted on her feet as if she suddenly realized what she was saying. Her smile disappeared and was replaced with nervousness.

He realized that his jaw had dropped and he couldn't say a word. There was something in his throat prevented him from saying anything. She must have taken his startled and surprised look as him being disbelieving and disgusted at her. She squeaked and quickly turned tail and fled.

His mouth remained open for a few moments, or minutes… he couldn't tell. He quickly shut his mouth and stared at her retreating form.

"You're welcome…"

* * *

?

It was dark, but nothing compared to the darkness she had suffered at the hands of Emrys for almost two thousand years. She couldn't breathe but that didn't matter. She was strong enough to swim through the thick water that was filled with green moss and brown mud. Her eyes stared ahead of her as she ignored the stinging caused by the direct contact of water on her eyes. She must have been twenty feet underwater and her ears felt like they were going to explode, but she moved her arms and kicked her legs. She ignored the plants that wrapped around her bare body, keeping her tied down to the bottom of the lake. She was so close. So close to freedom. To air.

Her lungs burned. She felt like her chest would break. Every moment she spent struggling to get closer to the surface of her prison that shined in the light of the winter solstice full moon was another moment of her continuing to convince herself that she couldn't breathe. Not yet. Not until she broke through.

She glared down at the plants that knotted themselves around her naked body. Her black hair floated around her as she started to tug with all of her might to get herself free. She tried to keep calm. Her pounding heart didn't listen.

It was strange. If escaping the pain of drowning wasn't her top priority, she would have stopped to ponder how strange it was. For centuries she hadn't needed to worry about breathing. About feeling. About the pounding in her chest. About being _alive._

She loved and hated it.

One of the plants that held her foot shot up and grabbed her wrist. Bubbles shot out of her nose when she jerked back in surprise. The earth was trying to kill her. Make her wait again to return to life. That would not do. She couldn't let that happen. She struggled harder and her eyes flashed a pure molten gold. The plants that tied her down burnt a bright blue then completely disappeared. She would have yelled for joy but she had to get up. She couldn't lose more air. She had to break free. To breathe. To live. To feel.

She kicked and kicked. She didn't know how much longer she could last. She was once told that a human could hold their breath for up to three minutes, but she was sure that she had been under the water for three hours.

Something grabbed her ankle.

More precious air escaped her nose and lips as she looked down at what wrapped around her.

A hand. A hand with long sharp fingernails that dug into her unblemished skin and pierced deep enough to allow blood to flow out like a cloud. She watched the blood in an almost trance-like state. She hadn't seen the crimson liquid for such a long time. She was surprised that she had it.

She shook her head and tried to kick out of the grip of the hand, but it was too strong. A face appeared under the hand. The One who tortured her for centuries. The One who sent her to a place worse than Hell to watch the world while she suffered in a limbo-esque state, helpless until she grew strong enough to use her lifeline to return.

"I will not allow you to return," the woman said. She was beautiful. Her dark hair flowed around her in gentle curls as if completely dry. Her brown eyes tore the soul. Her dress of pure white shined around her. Morgana could see why Emrys loved her.

Morgana couldn't talk. She was afraid that if she opened her mouth water mixed with moss, mud, and her own blood would flow into her mouth and she'd never return to the surface. But she wasn't afraid of the Lady of the Lake. Her eyes flashed again in their golden beauty and suddenly Freya was gone.

Morgana returned her eyes to the surface and continued to swim and kick desperately. Her lungs were on fire but she was cold. So very cold. The corners of her vision were going black and she could feel herself losing strength. She couldn't die again. She couldn't. She had things she had to do. She needed revenge. She needed to rule. She needed… she needed to breathe!

Finally, after what must have been days, her head broke through the surface and she took her first desperate gasp of air.

It was night. The moon shone directly above her and made her skin glow a gentle blue. She floated on her back and stared up at the stars, just breathing.

In.

Out.

Gods above and demons below, breathing felt _good._

She was aware of how cold she was. She was exposed and snow lined the shore of her lake. It was winter after all. Of course she was cold. But she couldn't bring herself to care just yet.

She just breathed.

Her chest lifted and fell with each gasp as she sucked in as much air as possible as quickly as possible to let it out and repeat. After a few breaths, she switched to her stomach muscles and took low and deep breaths, savouring the feeling of oxygen entering her mouth and travelling down her throat. She exhaled with care and watched the vapor escape her mouth.

When her heart, her wonderful heart that she could _feel_ as it pounded in her chest, finally calmed down she decided it was time to get out of the lake and walk on dry land. Centuries ago she would have used her magic to aid her to the shore located at least ten yards away, but she wanted to move. She wanted to feel the warmth in her muscles as she used them. She wanted them to hurt as she overused them. She wanted to feel pain. She wanted to feel being alive.

She swam. She swam and enjoyed the feeling of blood pumping through her limbs and her bones moving. She finally reached shallow enough water to stand for the first time. Then she took her first step and enjoyed the feeling of the water moving past her bare skin. She walked and walked and purposely stepped on jagged stones in the water to keep feeling. She took her first steps on land and laughed with joy when the cold snow bypassed her skin and bit at her very soul.

Her eyes flashed and the snow lifted into the air around her and weaved around her naked body in a blur of white. After a few moments the snow settled again and she stood in the snow wrapped in a beautiful pure white dress. Even though it was made of snow, she felt warm. Warmer than what she had been in too long a time.

She continued to walk with a destination in mind. As she walked and her previously deaf ears heard the sounds of night, she smirked. Her blood red lips twisted and showed her pure white teeth.

"Watch out, Merlin," she said to nothing and no one.

"I'm back."

* * *

 **AN: So, I get this question a lot. To clear up any confusion, Arthur will NOT make an appearance in this story. I love him, but he'll ruin what I'm working for.**

 **ToxicBelle:** I'm glad you're liking it! If I follow my planning for my story, Merlin will appear in chapter 20.

 **Loki:** Yes I have heard of Latvia! Though I'm embarrassed to say that the reason I do know of it is because of Hetalia, the Japanese anime. Do you watch anime? I do. A whole lot. Hetalia is basically a series about personified nations. Latvia is such a cutie in the show, while America is a big idiot who yells a lot. Anyway, back to your review. Yes! Chinese! I at first wanted to learn German but the teacher at my high school that taught it quit so I took the next option that sounded cool. It works out actually, ever since I started learning Chinese I have found it more in my life, like meeting people that speak it or seeing and understanding ads and posters written in it. Plus, in the next couple years I hope to go on an LDS mission, knowing Mandarin Chinese gives me a good chance of going somewhere in Asia, which is awesome because the culture is Asia is so freaking cool.

It's okay if you swear, as long as it's not the f bomb every two words then I won't get offended. I'm fine with other people swearing, it's their life and I don't have any right to tell them how to live it. I just don't do it myself. Also, you are not annoying me! It's super fun to read your reviews! The only reason you would somehow annoy me is if you said something rude and uncalled for. That's it. So keep being you and send those long and awesome reviews. I seriously look forward to the every chapter.

That's right, I have not mentioned my age. I just never thought it would be important so I never mentioned it in this story. I am seventeen. Yup, a year away from adulthood. Super scary but oh well.

"How old are you?" "Sewenteen, sir." "Oh great, she's seventeen." (Star Trek fangirl for life)

It seems a lot of people like Hermione and Merlin's perspective on things instead of Harry's! Which is super cool because of how my story is going to go, you guys need to love Hermione especially. She's probably a bigger main character in this than Harry.

Keep looking forward to more updates!

 **Kay, done with guest reviews.**

 **Hey you! Yeah you with the bored expression on your face! Check out my Tumblr page! I want to get to know my readers better so head over and say hi! Ask a few questions or start up a conversation with me and get immediate replies (because I'm on Tumblr pretty much 24.7).**

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	19. Chapter 18 point 5

**GUYS. Holy crap I love all of you nerds. Five. Flipping. Hundred. Follows. Almost three flipping hundred favorites. More than two hundred reviews.**

 **500 FOLLOWS. HALF A FLIPPING THOUSAND.**

 **I'm not done rewriting stuff, but I really wanted to thank you guys for all the support. So I decided to write a bit of an one shot that takes place closer to the beginning of the Hogwarts school year. Maybe in November.**

 **Anyway, I'm a huge shipper of Neville and Luna. I wanted to explore a bit of romance, but still have it fluffy you know? So here it is. Take it anyway you want.**

 **Also, this chapter is dedicated to Koala789, who has been with me and supported this story since Chapter Two. Thank you for every single review on all the chapters. They have made me smile every time I have read them. Also, you're a fellow Utahn. We have to stick together. Well… unless… *scowls* BYU or Utah Utes?**

 **This chapter is un-betad due to the fact that I wanted to get this out asap, and I didn't want to bother Talna. Maybe it will be edited later.**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter or Merlin, I just own this random story.**

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HPIHT ONE STOT

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Neville was lost in the seemingly endless maze made by the walls of Hogwarts. His black robes were missing, for all he knew the stupid thing grew legs and walked out of his dorms, and he was sporting an annoying limp. It was midday and he had already earned some kind of detention from Snape, got tripped by Malfoy (hence: the limp), and got pushed over by Peeves into a random snowdrift on the way back from Herbology.

Needless to say, Neville wasn't having a good day.

But when had that ever not been the case.

All he could do was sigh as he strolled down the long corridors, hallways, and random passages. At least Trevor was safe in his pocket-

Never mind. Trevor was gone too.

Neville didn't swear often. His mouth was the equivalent to a soap store thanks to his Grandmother. Back when he was very young and still didn't have a grasp on any magic powers, his uncle took him to a construction zone, convinced that if he threw Neville off of an unfinished two story building he'd magically gain powers and fly away or something. Unfortunately, Neville didn't get those magic powers but instead got caught by the back of his pants on a loose nail. The first word out of his mouth as he dangled a dozen feet of the earth was one his uncle found hilarious, but his Grandmother found dreadful. Neville could still taste the Japanese Cherry Blossom from that pink bar of soap. From that day forward, Neville swore to never cuss again.

Well, at that moment, Neville didn't care about past promises to himself. If his Grandma burst into Hogwarts armed with hand soap and bars and some of that dandruff shampoo she used (gross), he would not regret the word that came out of his mouth, because it practically saved his life. As his hand left his trouser pocket where Trevor _should_ have been, so did that simple yet vile word leave his mouth.

"Language," said a high pitched voice he didn't recognize.

Remember when it was said that he wouldn't care if his Grandma showed up to wash his mouth with evil soap? Actually, he did care. A lot. He was so startled by that word not spoken by him, that he jumped high enough to make a spring red with envy and proceeded to spin on his heels so quickly he almost tripped over.

He was so dead. Someone came and heard his cuss and now he was going to be hit over the head with a Bath and Body Works shopping bag (yes his Grandma liked that Muggles shop), and carried off into some pristine bathroom and gagged with Tahiti Island Dream lotion.

When he faced the one who said 'Language', he was expecting some kind of assassin hired by his Grandmother. Although, what he got was a... parrot?

"What," was about all he could say.

The parrot sat on top of a rusty suit of armor with its red, white, and blue feathers ruffled. It's head was turned away from Neville and it was twitching in some kind of pigeon-esque manner. It almost seemed… like it was trying to ignore Neville.

"Um… hello parrot?"

" _SQUAWK_ "

The bird screeched so loud and this time Neville did fall over. He tripped over his too-long-in-the-legs trousers and landed hard on his bottock. "Merlin's beard!" Neville swore.

"Language!"

Neville jumped to his feet and glared at the parrot. "You don't want me swearing, do ya?" He hissed. "Fine. Cuss! Crap! Bloody! Merlin's saggy left-"

"LllaaaaaAAAANNG _UAGE_ _ **EE**_ _!"_

Before Neville could do anything to defend himself from the demon scream the parrot made, it swooped down off the armor and wrapped its talons into the back of Neville's vest. "Woah!"

"Language! Language! _SQUAWK!_ LANGUAGE!"

Next thing Neville knew, he was being carried by the scruff of his vest through the long corridors by a demon parrot.

There was nothing Neville could do as he was abducted by the stupid bird besides just hang there. The bird ranted about language and Neville suddenly slightly just a smidge regretted swearing. Maybe the bird _was_ the assassin he feared his Grandmother would send.

After a few terrifying minutes, words that didn't come from the high pitched cuss hating parrot met his ears.

"Neville? What are you doing flying with the Cloxnox? That is dangerous, you know."

Neville spun his gaze to below him and was met by the beautiful sight of Luna.

"Language!"

Luna looked wistfully up at Neville and the demon bird. She didn't look like she was going to say anything more so Neville yelled above the voice of… what did she call it? Cloxnox?

"Help!"

Luna seemed to pull out of her daze and in the span of a few moment, Luna put on a rare expression that was hardly ever seen on her face. Determination and 100% clarity.

Neville was unsure of what happened next. All he knew was that Luna reached into her robes and threw some kind of glitter at the Cloxnox, of which screeched and dropped Neville right on top of the younger Ravenclaw girl.

Neville groaned and Luna had her face scrunched up like she smelt something horrid. The Cloxnox screamed something and retreated down further into the corridor.

"L-Luna! Are you okay?!" Neville asked as he scrambled off from on top of her.

She took a deep breath and then sat up slowly. Her wide eyes opened and she almost seemed confused of where she was. "Oh, hello. What are you doing here?" She asked with her voice in her usual dazed tone.

Neville lifted an eyebrow. "I don't know… that Cloxnox grabbed me. How did you get it to let go?"

Luna tilted her head. "A Cloxnox? You've seen one? That must have been nice. They say they hate swearing."

Neville was about to ask what in the world was wrong with her, but the question died when he saw a stream of red slide down her forehead. Neville was no doctor, but he could tell when someone had hit their head. He could tell when someone had a concussion.

"Oh crap, Luna are you okay?" He asked as he pushed himself to his feet. He gently helped her to her feet and when she stumbled, he steadied her by putting her arm around his neck.

"Yes I'm just fine." Luna smiled.

Neville sighed. He needed to get her to the hospital wing. "Do you know where we are? We need to get Madam Pomfrey."

"Oh she's just down there," Luna said as she pointed down a hallway.

Neville decided that he was desperate enough to listen to the directions of a concussed girl. He shifted her so he could support her better, and then he started to walk. His limp hurt but Luna's eyes were starting to close, he couldn't let a stupid leg injury stop him from getting her help.

He needed to keep her awake as he walked. "So… what were you doing down here?"

"Hmm? Oh sorry, I'm sleepy. I was just looking for you. Professor Emrys said you haven't arrived to his class yet and he was worried."

"Oh that's nice of him… and you…"

Luna nodded.

"So, um, thank you for saving me from that parrot," Neville said with a slight blush touching his cheeks.

"No problem, I guess."

And together, two social outcasts went to the hospital wing a bit closer than before. Neither of them understood the whole story of what happened that day, but they both liked to recall it every once in awhile. Especially Luna Lovegood, for it wasn't her head injury that made her wispy, but the accidental touching of lips when Neville fell on her.

As she sat on her bed with a considerable amount of bandages wrapped around her head, her fare fingers trailed up to her lips and she smiled. It was good for a first kiss she guessed.

* * *

 **Thank you guys again for all the follows. I cannot tell you how much I appreciate your guy's support and love. Without you guys, I definitely wouldn't be where I am with my writing. I love you all!**

 **Now, you guys might have noticed I haven't replied to any reviews lately. Sorry… I've been a bit sick lately and I haven't been in the mood to go through and reply to every review. Please just know I appreciate every single one of you.**

 **Thank you** Loki, Koala789, catlover2976, 36143, Ravenclaw667, Rabbit887, RainbowSage, Yogy, The itchiest Eye, KawaiKitsuneGirl, and the Guest that was skeptical that I would ever continue this book.

 **For those of you that haven't looked at my profile, I want to update you guys that no matter where I am in rewriting HPIHT, chapter 19 will be up on the 29th. Unless I'm kidnapped.**

 **Kay, long AN is getting too long. How many of you have seen Spiderman: Homecoming? I loved it. See you guys later!**


	20. Chapter 19: Magana's First Move

**You guys are literally going to hate me for this chapter. I'm gonna go hide in a panic room now. Bye.**

 **Thanks Talna for editing this chapter!**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own HP or Merlin.**

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The moon shone brightly above her as she walked. Twigs caught on her skirt and dirt slowly started to stick to her damp skin. She didn't mind the breeze that blew from the east nor did she care about the snowflakes that fell onto her eyelashes. After one thousand five hundred years, she was finally back and breathing.

It was an amazing feeling.

But, she couldn't allow herself to enjoy her newfound freedom. She had given herself a task, and she planned to stay on track.

Merlin was going to suffer. She wanted to carve his chest and rip out his still beating heart and watch as the fear in his eyes finally showed itself unto her. She wanted him to feel what she had suffered and more. Just killing him wouldn't be enough. His _screams_ ; wouldn't be enough. Probably nothing would ever be enough. But, she would make him suffer in agony until he begged her for death. Until he was no longer a strong and powerful warlock. She wanted him humiliated and bloodied and absolutely terrified of her.

He wanted him to fear her like one would fear God.

The path to her revenge would be a long one, but with a sweet reward. Each of her steps would be carefully planned and executed, she'd make sure there would be no room for mistakes.

Over the centuries, the land had changed. What was once the grand kingdom of Camelot was now part of Wales. Cities and civilisation had grown and soon the stories of Arthur and his beloved Merlin had become nothing more than a legend, nothing more than a story to chase with no proof of anything. It was laughable, that her _dear_ _brother_ would be reduced to a rumour and some kind of political figure. No one remembered him as the Once and Future King. Only a story that people liked to make movies about.  
Merlin, on the other hand, his fate was even more hilarious to her. The man who had destroyed her whole army, _killed_ her, and cursed her to live forever ended up being some kind of idol printed on trading cards. Morgana had to admit that the beard was a nice touch.

He was nothing. Just a name that slipped out sorcerers' lips as an example, or a swear. The strongest warlock, the child of the Old Religion, ended up a failure.

Oh how she found it laughable. He'd even failed to kill her permanently. True, he did banish her to a void of suffering, damned to a fate worse than Hell. But, her dark magic had finally brought her back. Apparently that little trick to store half her soul away and anchor her to the living had been used by a few others in her banishment. They were called by the name of 'Horcrux'. It was a sin to even speak of them in the modern world and Morgana completely understood why.

They were dangerous and made sure the demons connected to them stayed hooked to the earth, promising to come back.

Voldemort. The name belonging to a man so evil it spread fear when it left lips. He had created seven Horcruxes and was stupid enough to get himself killed. Morgana met him in the void, his disgusting soul had cried out in pain and rage. A sad sliver of humanity who wanted to be a god. Before his damaged soul could heal like Morgana's, he forced himself out of the void and lived like a parasite off of unicorns' blood. He might have succeeded in coming back if unicorns were as pure as they used to be.

In the boy, Harry's, fourth year the stupid excuse of a powerful and evil wizard had created a sickly and disgusting body using dark magic even Morgana wouldn't want to touch. His power was useless and much of his soul was damaged. He didn't cheat death, he invited it into his home.

Morgana was smart. She'd allowed her damaged soul to heal as she spent a small eternity in the void. Once she was strong enough, she had slowly begun to chip away at the Veil, saving her strength. Then finally, on the darkest and longest night of the year, the Tear had opened for her. Her body was returned to her, unblemished like a newborn lamb.  
Her plan had started. Just emerging from the Veil had hurt Merlin. She was capable of so much more.

It had been two days since her rebirth. She had found her hovel, enchanted to keep unwanted insects away, and dressed in robes of crimson. Then, she'd grabbed a certain object she had stashed away, to use only when she needed it.

It was an item worth the life of a king. King Arthur to be exact.  
The Pool of Nemhain awaited her and she couldn't wait to reach it. Her offering should suffice to bring back an empty shell of Arthur, like she had done some 15 centuries ago to that Lancelot. She planned to plant a devious seed in Arthur Pendragon's mind, one that would be Merlin's undoing. After all, Merlin already blamed himself for Arthur's death, she could only imagine his face when his King, Master, and _best friend_ came to kill him. He'd probably let Arthur lop off his head without question, but not without tears and begging for forgiveness.

Before she left to the Pool, she grabbed a different item, worth the life of no one but herself. The stupid dagger given to her by Arthur for her birthday so many centuries ago. It hummed in her hand and she could feel the pulse of half of her soul residing inside.  
Voldemort was a fool. He separated all of his anchors and left enchantments and idiotic minions to watch over them. Morgana on the other hand, was smart. She kept her dagger near her at all times. She never told anyone, not even her precious sister, about it. Keeping it near her meant that whoever wished to kill her would have to face her themselves. Not go running around and killing parts of defenceless souls like Harry was fated to do. At least Voldemort kept the snake with him.

She couldn't believe that the man who had sent countless souls to the afterlife was, if she were to say it bluntly, an idiot. He was nothing to her and was obsessed with a child. Harry Potter. The Boy Who Lived. Hah! Morgana could take that child out with a snap of her fingers. Voldemort out with a flash of gold eyes.

Although… The boy interested her. The only person to survive all three Unforgivable Curses. A child with a light so similar to Merlin's that it made her sick. The boy held untold power, and if he were to unlock that power, she may be met with a new threat. She had kept her eye on him as he grew. A boy so brave and cunning living in a world of ants. His friends, one loyal and the other one smart, interested her as well. The redheaded boy was destined for greatness, bigger than what he could ever imagine. But the girl. Oh the girl, Hermione was her name. Morgana longed to have her under her control. When she had broken through, not only had Merlin suffered, but so had the girl. She was connected to the Old Religion in a way that not even Merlin had noticed. If Harry was compared to Merlin in this age, Hermione would be Arthur. A light so bright it hurt to look at, but also easily corruptible.

She would keep an eye on Hermione and wait for the right moment to turn her against Merlin and Harry.

After a few hours of musing and walking, she had finally arrived the Pool of Nemhain. It was a beautiful lake, untouched by modern man and a shimmering gateway to heaven.

The object in her hand hummed with excitement and her heart fluttered with it. "Arthur, it's time for you to come back," she sneered before tossing the object into the glass like waters.

-o-o-o-o-

Nothing happened. Nothing!

The water shimmered and rippled as her object floated back to her feet at the shore. She tried again and again, but the object was rejected every time. She got angry and tried to conjure other souls.

Gaius. Gwen. Gwaine. Lancelot again. Percival. Cenred. Hunith. Balinor. William. None of them emerged. She tried to revive Mordred, and even Agravaine. None. Of. Them. Emerged.

She was close to being hysterical. It seemed the Old Religion had deemed it impossible to revive anyone from her time. She knew her offering was enough. It was enough to resurrect King Tut if she wanted to.

But it seemed Arthur and anyone from Camelot were off limits. She would have to go with a different approach and attack Merlin from the sidelines instead of directly. After a few rage filled minutes where she desperately tried to think of another way, it hit her.

Harry.

The boy Merlin was obsessed with.

To get to Merlin.

She would have to get to Harry first.

She grinned at her offering. The boy had lost so many in his mere 16 years of life. His parents whom he had never known. That boy during the Triwizard Tournament. But… out of all the deaths that boy had had to suffer through, there was one that was still hurting his heart.

If Camelot was locked up tight from her reach, she would just have to bring the boy's godfather back.

She smirked as she threw the object one last time into the Pool of Nemhain. Unlike all her other attempts where her offering was rejected, something actually happened. The water rippled and the form of a man, hunched over and soaked, arose from the waters.

"Welcome back, Sirius Black."

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 ***Pokes head out of panic room* eheheh…. Yeah. You guys will be left with this for a while…**

 **Back on schedule. So, rewriting is actually super freaking hard. I guess I'll just keep writing those in-between these now chapters. Anyway, see ya guys in two weeks!**

 **Thanks to my reviewers. I don't have time to reply to all of you once again, but I really do appreciate you guys. *Goes back in panic room***


	21. 21

**Hey guys, so this has been on my mind for a really long time, and I can't believe it has actually come to this, but I'm putting HPIHT on an indefinite Hiatus. I really don't want to do this, I'm actually shaking while writing this AN because I really love this book with all my heart. If you guys want to see my reasons for why I'm stopping progress on this story, you guys can read on after this paragraph, if you don't care for the reasons, just know that this story will probably never be updated again.**

Kay, for all of you that actually really cared for this story and really looked forward to each chapter I post, let me give you my reasons, because you guys deserve to know.

My First reason is that I don't even really care that much for Merlin anymore. It was a fun series to watch, but not one I cared too much about. I lost interest completely in the fandom about a month ago.

My second reason is that some people like to ruin things for others. I recently started to get pretty rude reviews on this story, some make me feel like I am personally being attacked. They're all mostly guest reviews, so when I get then I can just delete them and move on, but they stick in my mind. It has come to the point where I actually feel like I'm going to throw up every time I get an email saying someone had reviewed on this story. I hate it. I hate how five hundred people like this story, yet the reviews of a small dozen is making me feel like this.

My third reason is that it doesn't feel like I'm writing this for fun anymore. It feels like a job, and it's something I literally have to force myself to do every week, and I'm getting a bit sick of it. I don't want to do that to myself anymore, it's causing me more stress than it's worth.

My fourth reason, is a problem that has been present since the beginning. This book is not planned out. You can tell by the first ten chapters. There's so many plot holes and stuff I skipped over because I was too lazy to actually sit down and plan the book. I have been writing improvised up until a few chapters ago. I have no clue where exactly this story will go (or would have gone). I just have small ideas that I connect sloppy bridges to as a go along. I hate how it is like that. I'm a better writer now, and a better planner. I hate how my most popular story is one that I made up because I was bored, I hate how I have no clue where it's going and that scares me most of all. I always fear that every single chapter I update, I will lose you guys, and I don't want to deal with that stupid fear anymore.

The only reason I haven't given up on this story earlier is because of three of you. Loki, Talna, and Koala. Loki and Koala, you two have given me the most sweetest and nicest reviews, to the point where I actually feel like I know you guys. Talna, you have been my beta for a long time and you're the main reason I'm the kind of writer I am today, and I like chatting with you whether it's 2am here or 2am there (silly time zones). I hope you guys know that I really appreciate you, and Koala, I'm so glad you're following Interaction, even though I don't reply the reviews on that series, I love reading yours.

So, this all being said, I guess this is goodbye. Maybe someday I will continue this story, but at this point I really doubt it. I don't know how I feel about someone adopting this story, but if someone is interested, PM me and we can talk it out. I can tell you some of the plot points I planned on making. Same thing with you readers, if you guys are curious of how I planned to end this story just ask me, because I have no problems telling you them.

I have other stories I'm writing if you guys are curious. Interaction is the one in probably going to focus all my attention on now, if you guys like Spider-Man and Avenger fluff that's the story for you. Yeah. I'm just stopping this story, not writing in general.

Anyway, don't want to drag this on because I doubt many of you even care. I love all of you guys that do care. This was a fun adventure, but it was one I don't think I'm strong enough to see all the way through.

Bye~

-Jin


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